Take My Hand
by teresa
Summary: Years after going their separate ways, Vash and Meryl meet each other once more.
1. Reunion

Hello everyone!  I've never written in this section before, but I like to keep my work of a multivariate nature.  That, and I've had this little idea stewing in my mind since about sometime mid-July.  Why didn't I start it until now?  Because, I was working on other stuff, and I limit myself to three stories at once.  Now that I'm below quota, I can start another one!  Wee!  Okay, this is supposed to start about five years after the series ended as a kind of continuation of events.  There may be flashbacks, as I have been called the "memory ho" by my loving imouto and fellow writer, Jade.  But in that case, I'll be nice enough to try not to make you really confused by said flashbacks.  Also, later on there are some…um…yeah, intimate scenes, but it's all well within an R rating, so I'll change the rating when the time comes.  Anou…I should get this show on the road, shouldn't I?  Okay, here goes…

*****

Take My Hand

Part 1

*****

_It's a damn cold night_

_Trying to figure out this life_

_Won't you take me by the hand,_

_Take me somewhere new._

_I don't know who you are_

_But I'm with you…_

-Avril Lavigne, _I'm With You_

My name is Meryl Stryfe.  Despite what you might have heard to the contrary, I'm a completely ordinary woman.  I work at a completely ordinary job at a top-notch insurance company.  I work in claims, risk prevention, and various tedious clerical tasks.  I live in a nice apartment only ten blocks from my workplace and five blocks from the nearest grocery store.  I have many ordinary colleagues, not as many friends as most, but I get by.  I grew up in a normal family with two parents and two older brothers who I was never particularly close to.  I lived my last thirty years like a perfectly ordinary woman would, going to school, meeting people and learning about myself and others.  Overall, anyone looking over my complete life history would agree that there was nothing about it that could be said to be remarkable or at all out of the ordinary.

Well, that is if you just forget that Humanoid Typhoon assignment, but that was years ago.  I mean, what's the point of dredging up that particular event?  It didn't make me out of the ordinary, it just made my life seem more interesting to others.  But it wasn't as exciting as they make it out to be.  Seriously, if you do some investigation you'll find that even though I did technically spend over a year with the notorious outlaw, the first human ever to be declared an act of God, I was never killed (obviously) or even hurt seriously.  There might have been the occasional tight spot, but people always seem to think that Vash the Stampede was after my blood.

That always makes me laugh, the idea of Vash as some cold-blooded killer.  I know it shouldn't be funny, but if you knew him, you'd understand.  He might have had a $60,000,000,000 bounty on his head, and I admit that he was capable of being dangerous, but I never felt I had anything to fear from that man.  He isn't what you might expect.  I get a feeling that he's something more than the rest of us.  He's so misunderstood, yet any child that meets him will tell you immediately that Vash is a good man.  That's why I like children.  They trust their feelings, whereas their adult counterparts place too much trust in what they've been told to think.  Anyone can see that Vash is a good, kind man.  Kinder than most anyone else I've ever known, but with the worst luck I've ever seen as well.

I understand that I'm praising him far more than you should expect, but I can't help the fact that I'm biased.  That man wheedled his way inside of me, and I can't help but wonder where he is now and hope that he's finally found some of the peace he so deserved.  I worry sometimes that something might have happened to him, but I doubt it.  In my experience, nothing was capable of killing that man.  I oftentimes wonder if he is actually immortal.  That might begin to explain why no matter how dire the situation, he never died.  Or maybe with his bad luck, he has just as strong a mix of good luck.  Who knows?

Anyway, the fact of the matter is that I went for thirty years of my life depending only on myself.  I may have been in the occasional tight spot, but overall, I could handle my perfectly ordinary life on my own, as any ordinary woman could.  The thing of it was that every now and then I'd feel like something was missing.  Perhaps my life was so simple I had too much time to think about how it could have been more complicated.  That isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it?  Plenty of people live their lives thinking of many other things besides whether or not they're out of coffee, when they need to finish the newest set of paperwork, and how early they should go to bed to be sure they don't sleep in too late.  I like to have everything neat and organized, wholly predictable and relying only on myself, no variables.  But sometimes, I wonder if I'm really living my life or hiding from it.

And one day, I received an answer, though it was not a simple explanation as I could have hoped.  These things are never that easy.  My answer came in the form of a ragged man I glimpsed in a back alley on my way home from work one fateful day.

----------

"Spare some change, miss?" a dirty looking man asked me as I left the Bernadelli Insurance Company building.  I barely heard him, not even pausing to check my pockets as I walked past, but as I continued to move past the buildings in the busy town I lived in, I felt a bit guilty for passing him by so apathetically.  I didn't want to go back, but I promised myself to find change for the next homeless person I saw.  It wasn't fair for me to assume that they wouldn't spend it on food, as so many others did.  How many men like that starved because of uncaring strangers?  I could spare a few coins easily.  And I know that's what Milly would do.  I may be her superior at work, but I often find myself admiring Milly's way of looking at things, at living her life with such pure goodness, and I wish to model myself after her at times.

As I continued walking, thinking over these things and reaching in my purse to tentatively feel around for the coins I knew weighted the bottom down, I caught a glimpse of movement just off the side of the street.  It seemed to be a man, wrapped in a tattered length of cloth, moving into the depths of the alley between two buildings I was approaching.  Normally, I would have thought nothing of it.  It isn't safe for a small woman such as myself to go poking in dark alleys, no matter how many guns I hide under my cloak.  But there was something about the way he moved, a glimpse of recognition snapped through me, and though I couldn't place it, I was sure I knew this man.  Besides that, I was busy basking in guilt from the earlier bypassed panhandler, and I felt that I could make it up with this man.  Anyways, I _do_ carry guns, so it wasn't as though I was being completely stupid about it.  And it bothered me to think I would know anyone who was living so pathetically.  I needed to see this man and be sure it was a mistake.

So when I reached the alley, I moved into it, though I saw no one at first.  After a few yards, I made out a bit of movement and saw that the man was huddled in the back of the alley, looking as though he was trying to get some sleep.  I moved hesitantly toward him, not feeling afraid, but feeling a bit foolish for following him into the dimly lit alley.  It was getting dark out, after all, and it wasn't exactly the smartest thing I could do.  And yet…I wasn't afraid at all that he'd hurt me.  I was more afraid that he'd scold me for following him.  Silly, isn't it?

"Excuse me sir?" I spoke softly, then realizing that he probably couldn't hear me, I raised my voice a bit, trying to sound confident.  "Sir, do you need some help?"  He didn't answer me, but he looked up, and my heart nearly broke from the look on his face.  He looked as though he had lost everything he ever cared about, and somehow, those red-rimmed green eyes seemed so familiar… "Do I know you?  I'm sorry, but I just feel like…I've seen you somewhere before…" I couldn't stop myself from moving forward, leaning down to get a closer look at this man who seemed as though he was about to cry, and I caught a brief flash of recognition in his eyes.  So I did know him, and apparently he knew me as well.  But who was he?

"Insurance girl?" his voice was little more than a weak croak, but it was enough for me.  I suddenly had a flash of a man in my memories.  A very different man, one who was always smiling and helping others, seemingly never needing help himself.  But could this helpless lump of humanity be the kind man I remembered?

"Vash?  Is that you?" my voice cracked a bit, much to my dismay, but now that I think of it, I doubt he really minded.  I mean, at least I was wearing clean clothes.  I also seemed to be living comfortably whereas he was obviously not as fortunate.  I don't think he could really fairly call me out for sounding a bit foolish.  Besides that, he looked so surprised that I knew his name, that I recognized him, that I'm sure he wasn't worry about how smooth I sounded.  "It is, isn't it?"

"I don't…use that name anymore." He sighed, looking down from my own gaze, his eyes wandering over the filthy ground he was resting on.  Something bad must have happened to him since the last time I saw him, but with poor Vash, who knew what it could be?  I sighed, making up my mind at that moment to not leave him there thinking that he was alone in the world and looking like the most pathetic being in all existence.

"That's what I've always called you though." I told him, hunching down in an attempt to face him.  "Listen, do you want to come with me?  I can't just...leave you here."

"Don't waste your time feeling guilty about where I've gotten myself." Vash continued to avoid looking at me, and I suspected from the hitch in his tone that he was crying.  "It's not your responsibility."

"I never said it was." I rolled my eyes.  I'd forgotten how impossible he could be.  "Vash, I haven't seen you for nearly five years.  We're friends, right?" I didn't give him time to answer, but I noted that I had his attention, as he was casting me unsure glances.  "Well, I think that as your friend, I have the responsibility to invite you to come visit me and catch up on old times.  You wouldn't say no to that, would you?"

"Well…it's not that I don't want to see you…" Vash was definitely wavering.

"I'll feed you." I added.  "And if I recall, I have a box of half a dozen donuts at home…" I sighed for effect.  "It'd be a shame if I had to eat them alone."

"Donuts?" his eyes sparked up at that, as I'd known they might.  It seemed that some of the cheerful Vash I remembered was still inside this sad shell of a man.  "Well, I don't want to be rude." He began to stand up as I followed suit, smiling excitedly.  I probably looked a bit foolish, smiling like that, but if only Vash could see me, it didn't really matter that much.

"Of course not." I took his hand in my own on impulse, squeezing it reassuringly as I began out onto the street again.  I could see the surprise on his face at my gesture, but I ignored it as I ignored the looks we received from many passers-by.  A neatly dressed professional looking woman walking hand in hand with a ragged vagabond.  What a sight we must have made, but I didn't care.  I was too happy knowing that Vash was alive to care what strangers thought of me.

-----------

"Silly man." I smiled down at Vash where he'd fallen asleep in no time after making sure to devour all my donuts and an entire box of cereal.  It looked as though I'd need to go shopping, especially if I could convince him to stay with me at least until he found his feet again.  It wouldn't be a strain on me as much as it would relieve me to know that he was being taken care of.  I had plenty of money to feed one foolish glutton and myself with no problems whatsoever.  The question was whether or not he'd accept my help.  In my experience, Vash wasn't so much a proud man as he was extremely selfless.  He hated asking others for help.

Whether he'd stay or not, I could at least help him now.  "Vash," I tugged at his arm gently to wake him so he could move from the table.  There was no way I'd let him sleep in a chair all night, but I wouldn't carry him to the couch either.  "Vash, wake up."

"Huh?  Oh, I'm sorry." His voice was groggy as he yawned and stood, stumbling slightly as he was still half asleep.  "I should go…"

"No, it's no problem.  Why don't you sleep on the couch tonight?" I led him into the living room so that he could see the inviting piece of furniture.  It had to appeal to him after sleeping on the cold ground for who knows how long.  I hoped he wouldn't try to act tough and leave.  "I'd feel a lot better knowing you were here than out there." I admitted, hoping that he'd stay at least for my sake.

"Um…well, if you really want, I guess I wouldn't mind staying tonight." He offered me a small smile, one of the few I'd seen from him that evening, and it reassured me even more.  It hurt to see him looking so down and not knowing what was wrong, but I didn't want to pry.  Forget the fact that he appeared out of nowhere for the first time in five years, I could deal with that.  I didn't want to scare him off with unwanted questions, after all.  If he had something important to say to me, he'd say it, wouldn't he?

_"You'll tell him everything when he gets back, won't you Sempai?"_ Millie's voice rang in my head, a memory of a time that I had let slip by without saying what needed to be said.  So maybe he wouldn't say anything to me, but I guess I would have earned it for not trusting him in the past.  "I'll get you a blanket, then." I scurried out of the room, not wanting him to see the embarrassed blush staining my cheeks.  Why the hell was I blushing?  It was ridiculous.  Just because I had left a few things unsaid so many years ago…

_"He'll come back, Sempai.  And this time, you won't let him leave, will you?" _Millie's voice echoed again.  I shook my head as I opened the closet, standing on tip-toe to reach an extra blanket I had stored at the top.  I knew I let him leave last time, but it was hard.  I couldn't say anything at all, and then one morning he was just gone, and so were all my chances.  In the end, I'd found him again, though.  But I couldn't help wondering, where had he been?  I wondered where Knives was now.  He'd been half dead when I first saw him, slung over his brother's shoulder, but I remembered him seeming well enough just before they disappeared together.  Perhaps they'd had some kind of a falling out, and that was the reason for his current depression.  I shook my head, clearing the questions that continued to appear in my mind as I returned to the living room, seeing Vash already fast asleep on the couch, his legs stretched over the arm of the piece of furniture, one arm flung carelessly over his chest, the other falling easily to the ground.  I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"That looks comfortable." I breathed, not wanting to wake him, though I doubted an earthquake would get him up at this point.  Still, I was quiet and careful as I took his boots off, setting them on the ground neatly next to each other.  Having done that, I carefully scooped his stray arm off the floor, laying it across his chest with the other one.  Finally, I spread the gray woolen blanket over his prone form.  I noticed as I moved to put a pillow under his head that his mouth was slightly open, and he was making a faint breathing noise that was almost like snoring.  I smiled, not being able to resist brushing his longish locks of hair out of his face, letting my hand rest momentarily on his dirty, unshaven cheek.  Even like this, I could still see the charm he'd held for me five years ago.  Perhaps I was still drawn to that boyish face, that childish innocence mixed with the wisdom of a man older than any I knew.  Maybe it was something more than chance that brought me to him that day…

"Sleep well, Vash." I smiled down at him, still inches from him as I quickly debated whether or not to simply go to bed and just let the poor man alone.  It seemed like a smart idea, but I hadn't seen him in so long…In the end, I settled for a quick kiss on his forehead, not caring that he was grimy from living on the streets.  Having said my goodnights, I tiptoed to bed, feeling happier than I had for a long time.

----------

"Good morning!" a cheerful voice called out as I entered the kitchen that morning, still in my pajamas, to see Vash standing over the stove, showered and in freshly washed clothes.  I noted that the clothes were the same set he'd been wearing before, and he could definitely do with some new ones, but I didn't comment on their state of disrepair.

"You're in a good mood this morning." I smiled slightly, a bit surprised by his sudden change in mood, but not altogether put off by it.  "Feeling better?"  I immediately regretted my question as I saw his face fall from that artificially cheerful smile into a somber frown.  "Vash…is something wrong?" I felt incredibly foolish.  Of course he couldn't have cheered that immediately.  It was nothing more than an act for my benefit.  He shook his head, lifting the saucepan from the stove and carrying it to the table where two plates were waiting.

"I made breakfast." He told her, his voice obviously torn between his need to sound cheerful and his true feelings of sadness.  It tore at my heart to see him like this, and I knew that no matter what objections he made, I had to make sure he stayed, at least until he was feeling better.  Maybe if he simply talked about it…

"You didn't have to." I smiled at him warmly, looking at the bacon and eggs he scooped onto my plate, determined to be patient with him until he was ready to talk.  "But thank you."

"I just wanted to do something, since you let me stay here last night." He shrugged.  "I…um, I used your shower.  Is that okay?"

"It's fine." I told him, feeling a bit hurt that he felt he needed to ask.  What happened to him?  "You look much better all cleaned up."

"I couldn't shave." He lowered his eyes, concentrating on his food.

"I noticed.  And you need a haircut, don't you think?" I asked him carefully, hoping to use this opportunity to bring up the idea of him staying with me longer.  "We could go into town today, if you want.  I could get you a razor, and maybe some new clothes."

"You mean…like for here?" Vash looked around as though he hadn't realized before then that he was in my home.  "I…don't need a place to stay."  Sometimes, patience only takes you so far.

"Yes you do." I answered, trying to remain calm.  If I fought him on this, he'd just leave and I might never see him again.  "And I think it's best you stay here.  After all, I still owe you."

"Owe me?" Vash looked extremely confused.

"Are you kidding?  I'm not helpless, as you know, but the last time we were together, I seem to remember you saving Millie and myself more than once.  It's only fair that I pay you back." I reasoned.  "Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Well…I don't want to get in your way." Vash shook his head, obviously giving up resistance.

"You won't be." I assured him.  "So, after breakfast, would you like to go shopping with me?"

"I…I think I'd rather stay here." He admitted, looking extremely sheepish.  "I…don't like being out there much."

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask.  I didn't want to pry, but it all seemed so unlike the Vash I remembered.  "It's such a beautiful day."

"Um…I'm still an outlaw." Vash spoke, obviously lying.  "So what if someone recognized me?"

"Alright." I sighed.  If he wanted, he could keep his secrets, at least for now.  It wasn't hurting me as much as it was obviously hurting him to keep it all in.  "Why don't you do the dishes while I'm out then?"  he agreed easily, not offering any complaint as I would have once expected from him.  What happened to him?  What had drained so much life from this man?

*****

The End (Of Part 1, That Is)


	2. Pizza

You know, though it would seem really great to get a random day off during an otherwise normal school schedule, it doesn't really hope if you don't know ahead of time and therefore plan accordingly.  How am I supposed to put all my homework to be done at the last minute if I get another twenty-four hours after it's done?  I'm not really complaining, I just wish I hadn't been forced to use most of today to do homework for tomorrow anyway.  Man, that's unfair.  Well, I'm sure you could care less about my little complaints, so let's get to the good stuff!  By the way, I was extremely pleased with the immediate response you guys are giving me!  Oh, I'm basking in the review love.  It's soooo wonderful receiving reviews, it gives me focus and helps me write!  So this ones for all my lovely reviewers!

Disclaimer:  If there were a way to own these characters, I'd have figured it out by now.  I love Vash, yet he doesn't belong to me!  No, so sad!

*****

Take My Hand

Part 2

*****

_When I believe in you my soul can rest __   
__But as love that's really love can never fail __   
__But fail it does __   
__When we shine like the sun __   
__You seem the only one_

_My only friend_

-Bush, _Inflatable_

It's amazing how quickly you can forget the way life once was when you are forced to change the way you live due to some complication.  You forget to appreciate those things in your life that become better, as you soon look at them not as improvements, but as simply the way things have always been.  A hungry child on the streets will forget his hunger soon enough if you take him in, feed him constantly, and teach him not to worry about whether or not he'll have a constant supply of sustenance.  It's not that we forget how life once was; we simply choose not to think about it, as it was not nearly as happy as our lives have become.  It works differently when there are bad changes in one's life, but if you put a well fed child on the streets to fend for himself, it will soon be hard for him to recall what it was like to have plenty, though he'll try desperately to cling to those memories of happy times past.  Whatever the change is, it's hard to go back.  I think that is especially true for when a person gains something, some happy piece of life.  To put a child who was once starving back on the street after letting him know the pleasure of constantly being fed makes it more difficult on the child to experience his sad existence than before, when he knew not what his life could be like.

After only two weeks since I brought him home with me, it was hard for me to recall just what life had been like without Vash in my home.  Was it worse?  Perhaps in some small measure, if you were stingy, you might think I'd dislike suddenly having to feed two people, one of who had a ridiculous pastry obsession, as well as increasing my budget to include all the everyday needs of a man.  To me, it didn't seem like that much of a change in my financial situation.  I really made more money than I alone needed as it was.  Maybe you would think I disliked losing my privacy, having to share my space with another person, not only another person, but a man.  My modesty was at stake every time I dared to change my clothes or to wash myself.  But I didn't mind the new environment.  You see, as I said, I did grow up with two brothers, and I was used to living with men in my home, so it was really no problem.  I liked knowing that he was always there, in fact.  I think it made me feel as though, since he did opt to stay with me, that maybe he cared for me.  I know it's a silly hope to have, but besides the fact that I was feeding him and keeping him warm and clothed, why would he stay with me?  I knew that it stung his sense of selflessness to accept my help, but I admit that he paid me back at least tenfold, though not in the way you may think.

Imagine the difference in my life, occurring so suddenly and by a chance meeting, a twist of fate that brought me to the man I once knew, a mere shell of his former self, so in need of my care.  But as I cared for him, he made my life full and happy.  I don't know even now if he tried to make me feel as though I was so very cared for and important as he did, but I must admit that I loved every minute of it.  It wasn't only in knowing that he depended on me for food and shelter.  If that was enough, I could be satisfied with a cat.  No, Vash, even in his momentary bouts of silent sadness that he only indulged in when he thought I wouldn't see him, was always thinking of me.  It was in everything he did, and I noticed all of it.  He tried to be subtle about it, always having the house clean when I got home, never going to bed before the dishes were clean and the food was away, but I saw all that and more.  

Every morning he would make me breakfast, starting it before I got up and having it on the table by the time I came into the kitchen.  I don't know how he woke up so early, but I think maybe it was a skill he learned in his years of running and hiding.  He was always there with me.  Even when I went to work I'd be reminded of him because of the way I missed him, or sometimes he'd slip little notes into my briefcase that I wouldn't find until later.  They were mundane things most of the time, like a list of things we needed or simply a doodled smiley face telling me to have a nice day, but each one of the notes he left made me happy.  I found that he checked on me while I slept, as one night I recalled falling out of bed and not wanting to get up, simply falling back asleep on the carpet, but I woke up in bed, snugly tucked inside my thick comforter.

When I came home, he always greeted me at the door and asked how my day was, listening without interruption as I droned on about boring insurance agent business until even I tired of it and asked him how his day was.  He always told me that it was good, and then proceeded to make up ridiculous stories about his chores and how difficult they had been.  Once he told me how the pair of socks he'd left behind the couch had grown so foul they came to life and chased him through the house, threatening to devour him until he was finally able to tackle them long enough to kill the evil with enough laundry detergent.  They were obvious fabrications, and he would tell two or three such tales until he had me laughing and relaxed, forgetting how hard my day at work had been as we went to the kitchen for dinner.  After that, we would usually watch the news, though I think that Vash was bored with it, even though he wouldn't say this.  Then we might watch a movie before I went to bed and left him to his couch.  We fell into this pattern quickly and easily, so fast that I almost forgot that there was something wrong with Vash, something that I desperately wanted to help him with.  He cared for me so well; I forgot to watch out for him at the same time.  Until the night I came home to a quiet, seemingly empty house, only to find Vash in the bathroom, crying like a baby as he curled up fully dressed in the bathtub.

It's funny how fast you can become comfortable, so comfortable you forget to worry about things that you should.  It's strange, but you remember fast enough the moment all that changes, even in the slightest.

-----------

"I'm home!" I called out, a smile already tugging at the corners of my mouth as I awaited Vash's usual enthusiastic welcome, but it didn't come.  I frowned, hanging up my coat as I headed further into the apartment, doubts itching at the back of my mind as I saw that nothing was being made for dinner and Vash was neither in the kitchen nor the living room, though the television had been left on.  Would he have left this suddenly, reverting to his old ways of waking up one morning and deciding that it was time to move on?  For some reason, that thought scared me badly, and I couldn't think why I should be so concerned about where he was.  Perhaps I was scared that he'd end up hungry in an alley once more, and after all, he was my friend, wasn't he?  I wouldn't wish such misfortune upon any of my friends, certainly.  I continued to worry as I went down the short hall, opening my bedroom door and finding it without life.  Only two more doors left, and I doubted he'd be crammed in the storage closet.  So with shaking fingers and bated breath, I reached for the doorknob to the bathroom, twisting it slowly and peeking inside.

Now, I realize as I speak about all this now that it might not have been a wonderful plan to open the bathroom door without knocking, but I was worried, so I wasn't exactly thinking on the possibility that he might be naked or anything like that.  As it was, I was shocked at the sight that met my eyes.  Curled in the empty tub, still fully dressed and sobbing like a child was Vash the Stampede.  Now, I think it's fair to say that this was not the first time I'd seen him cry.  For a presumably deadly outlaw, Vash was quite the crybaby, and more than once I'd seen him sobbing loudly and openly, letting his tears cleanse away his pain for himself and, more often, others.  The worst off I'd ever seen him was after he'd been forced to kill Legato Bluesummers, the first man he ever actually killed, and for days he couldn't do anything but cry and contemplate his sin.  I'd known since I found him that something terrible happened to Vash while we were separated, but I still didn't know what that was.  Whatever it had been, he'd obviously reached some kind of breaking point.

"Vash!" I gasped as I took the scene in.  "Vash, what's wrong?" I moved quickly to the tub, kneeling beside it and resting one hand on his arm, trying to gain his attention, perhaps even calm him down a bit.  "Vash, talk to me."

"I…Meryl…" he managed between sobs, sitting up slightly and rubbing his eyes against the sleeve of his black t-shirt, trying to calm himself, though tears still streamed from his eyes.  "I didn't…realize…you were…home." He ignored my hand on his arm, standing a bit shakily, his eyes still red and wet from his tears.  "I better…start dinner." He sniffled, but I managed to cut him off before he could get to the door.

"That's not it, Vash.  Don't worry about dinner, okay?  I don't care about that right now.  I want to know…" I paused, wanting to be careful with my words.  If I was too blunt, he might leave and never come back, depending on what it was that was upsetting him so much.  "Vash, since I saw you on the street, I knew something was wrong, but I decided to let you tell me when you were ready.  But Vash…I don't think I can wait forever.  Not when it means I'm going to just…find you like that.  Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"Meryl," his voice was soft and serious, his tone something different than what he usually spoke in.  He sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder, his other arm wiping his eyes again.  "Please…I can't tell you.  If you want, I'll leave, if it bothers you."

"You'd rather leave than tell me?" That stung.  I couldn't believe he'd said that.  "You really trust me that little?"

"No, it's just…" Vash lowered his head to my shoulder, giving me a half hug that I slowly returned.  "If you knew what happened, I don't think you'd want me here still."

"Why would you think that?  Vash, I wouldn't make you leave.  I…" I stopped, keeping my voice low and soothing.  No need for him to get more worked up than he already was just because I couldn't act calmly about this.  But I must admit, I felt a bit ridiculous, petite woman that I am, standing under a considerably taller man who was curled in an awkward looking arc so that his head was low enough to rest on my shoulder.  And I was confused by his sudden emotional outburst anyway, so it was hard to remain the calming influence that he obviously needed at this point.  "Vash, do you want to sit down?"  I didn't want to admit it, but he was leaning on me a bit, and the man was definitely heavier than me.  It was starting to bother my already sore back.

"But…dinner." He sounded extremely upset that he'd failed in his self-assumed responsibility.  "You…you're probably hungry."

"Tell you what." I paused, closing my eyes so that I wouldn't see how ridiculous I looked patting his head as though he were a child.  "Why don't we order out tonight?  We can stay up late watching movies and eating take-out.  Anything you want."  So he didn't want to talk about his problem yet.  I figured that it was probably better not to push him.  "I mean, it's Friday, so I don't have to work tomorrow.  Come on, it'll be fun."

"Anything I want?" he turned, and my shoulder now muffled his voice, though I could still make it out easily enough.  "Can we get pizza?"

"Sure." I wasn't surprised at this request.  Vash loved pizza almost as much as he loved donuts, I'd learned.

"I'll call!" He dashed off, almost as though his former low mood was completely forgotten.  At least if I couldn't get him to confide in me, I could cheer him up quickly enough.  Though still, it stung to think that he couldn't trust me with his secret.  It stung to think that there was _no one_ to whom he would entrust this secret of his.  He had lived so much longer than me, and it seemed that now he was more alone than I'd ever been.  And all the while, I tried to draw him out, but I don't think he even noticed my attempts well enough to respond.  "Meryl, you like mushrooms, right?"  Suddenly he was popping out in front of me as I stood deep in thought, and it was all I could do not to shriek in surprise.

"Um, yes, yes I do." I lowered the hand that had risen defensively at his sudden appearance.  "Anything you want is fine."

"Okay then, one large mushroom and pepperoni pizza with black olives!" he told the person on the phone, beaming happily at the idea of pizza.  There was a short pause after which he hung up the cordless, calling over his shoulder.  "It'll be here in ten minutes!"  He sounded so excited, and I suddenly realized that the entire time he'd been living with me, he'd been this way.  Small things would cause him great happiness and excitement, but when I thought about it, I couldn't be all that sure that he was truly happy.  He was just so over the top that I assumed he must be pleased about every little thing, but what if it was all an act for my benefit?  Not that I doubted he liked mushroom and pepperoni pizza with black olives.  The thing that bothered me was that he was acting overly happy on my account.  And then, for the hundredth time since I'd first found him, a question popped into my head.  But for the first time, I actually gave it voice.

"Vash?" I wondered aloud, not really thinking he was nearby enough to hear me.  "Where's Knives at?" I asked.

"Kn…Knives?" I heard the squeak and turned to see him headed toward me, a movie in his hand, the smile having slipped from his face.  He looked forlorn and lost, completely confused and terribly sad, and at once I wondered if this was the face that was always hidden behind a huge smile.

"Your brother, right?  That was his name, wasn't it?" I asked, suddenly wishing I hadn't said anything.  I didn't know how long I could stand that sad look on his face.  "I mean…when I last saw you…Knives…you guys…um…Vash?" I felt incredibly foolish for bringing up a topic that he so obviously did not want to discuss.  His green eyes were full of tears, and I felt horrible, knowing that it would be my fault if he started crying again.  His lip was quivering slightly, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the floodgates burst yet again.

And then the doorbell rang.

I didn't know how to feel about the sudden interruption.  Should I be upset that someone had cut into such a serious and private moment?  Should I feel guilty that I was a bit relieved at the distraction?  Should I feel hopeful that perhaps this pause in our conversation would give time for Vash to regain some composure?  I didn't know how to feel, but as the doorbell rang a second time, I knew that I had to answer it.  It was the pizza man, of course, carrying the pizza Vash had ordered just a few minutes ago.  I handed him a couple of bills, blind to whether or not I'd grossly over tipped him.  The idea of a few less dollars in my pocket worried me far less than the condition Vash had been in when I'd run for my purse.  I couldn't help hoping that the sight and smell of the pizza would put him in a happier mood, but did I really want that façade of happiness that it seemed he was forever putting on, or did I want to get closer to the cause of his problem?

"Vash," I was speaking gently, hoping to soothe his sadness with a kind tone.  "Vash, the pizza's here." I brought it into the living room, setting it on the coffee table without daring to look up.  But after a long silence, I couldn't resist, and so I looked up to see him sitting with a precarious smile balanced under wet eyes.

"It…smells good." He told me as I moved to sit next to him.  I touched his arm lightly, hoping to gain his attention.

"Vash…are you…" I wasn't sure what I meant to ask him, but he cut me off with a choking hug, burying his face in my shoulder as he began to sob silently.  I was so shocked that I couldn't even recall why I'd begun speaking, and instead sat frozen for a few moments before I decided just to let him have his shoulder, as he obviously had need of it.  I wrapped my arms around him slowly, patting his back and stroking his hair as I remembered my mother doing when I would come to her, crying about anything at all.  It was obviously a bit different than that now, but I felt that any sort of comfort I might offer would be at least a little bit helpful.  "Shh, it's okay." I spoke softly, rocking slightly back and forth.  "It's okay now."  

I can't say I honestly know how long we sat like that, but by the time his sobbing slowed to the occasional sniffle, the shoulder of my shirt was long since soaked through with his tears.  He shifted eventually, edging away from the embrace that had been more his doing than mine.  It was strange, feeling the sudden lack of warmth against me, missing the pressure of his arms on my waist, his head on my shoulder, the tickle of his hair on my neck.  These feelings were all strange to me, as I couldn't recall ever before being embraced as Vash would often embrace me.  It wasn't like the hugs I remembered from my mother and father, nor even like the hugs that Millie sometimes surprised me with.  When Vash hugged me, I felt not as though I was simply being held, but more like I was holding onto someone who was holding onto me as well.  I don't know how I can better explain it, but there it is.  But even after the odd random hug from Vash, I never felt quite the way I did after letting him cry on my shoulder like that.  Maybe it had only been a few moments, or maybe it had been hours, but in the end, I wasn't ready for the sudden loss of the embrace.  It wasn't that I didn't want him to stop crying, it was more as though I didn't want him to stop needing me so strongly.  It may be selfish of me to admit it, but I loved to feel as though I was needed by him.  I loved to feel that I was the one thing he couldn't do without.  It was a childish enough hope, but all of us harbor our little dreams of self-appointed importance.

"Sorry." He spoke up, rousing me from my thoughts.  I looked up at his tear-streaked face, his bright green eyes lined with red from his crying fit, his cheeks puffy and red with the heat of his emotions, and I smiled.  He was beautiful, truly.  Even now, with sorrow so thick in him, his face was a sight I would never tire of.  Without thinking, one of my hands drifted up to his face, my thumb wiping away a stray teardrop gently.  His cheeks were noticeably heated compared to my cool hands, and he leaned into the motion slightly, obviously wanting to cool down a bit.

"Don't worry about it." I told him, my voice soft and gentle, hiding the surprise I felt at the entire scene.  I took my hand away from his face and motioned to the unopened box on the table.  "Hungry?"  I stood to put the movie in so that perhaps some semblance of normalcy might still be had from the evening gone terribly awry.

I didn't need to ask him twice.  Vash attacked the pizza with a reckless abandon that was rare even for him.  I managed to salvage two pieces for myself, but he devoured the rest of it quickly, though he offered me the last piece.  I let him have it, not really hungry enough to deny him the last bit of dinner, and too amused by the whole scene to ruin it with selfish intent.  After the pizza was finished, he stood up, returning with the old afghan I always bundled up in whenever I watched movies.  I would have gotten up to retrieve it soon enough anyway, but his thoughtfulness was nonetheless touching.  "Thank you." I smiled at him as he handed it to me, still looking a bit contrite about the scene that had occurred earlier.  At least I knew now that whatever had happened, Knives was somehow involved, so that was something.  I could wait for the rest, if he'd only learn to trust me…

As I sat pondering the night's events, I felt Vash's arm go around my shoulder as he leaned back into the couch, pulling me with him.  I almost resisted him out of instinct, but it was Vash, after all.  It would be silly to deny him a small bit of contact after letting him cry on my shoulder so long that the pizza was cold when we finally ate it.  So, even though I was stiff and a bit surprised by the tug of his arm, I acquiesced soon enough, pulling my feet up onto the couch as I rested against his chest.  The movie was nothing remarkable, and I still can't remember what it was we watched.  Some action film, I believe.  However, I can remember everything about how Vash leaned back in the corner of the couch, breathing steady and low as I let him pull me to his chest.  I remember the sound of his heart and how I tilted my head to the side so that it filled my head with it's low, comforting rhythm.  I remember looking up at him briefly, and seeing him smile at me in a way I'd never seen before.  I remember how the arm that pulled me to him stayed around my shoulders, but the hand wandered up to my hair, playing with short strands casually.  I remember how his other arm eventually moved over to me as well, wrapping low over my waist and brushing against my back as it came to rest.  This was nothing like the desperate way he'd clung to me before.  Something about it was more familiar, and almost more intimate.  He held me casually, gently, as though he wasn't refusing to allow me to leave, but subtly suggesting that I might stay.  I could stand up, and his arms would fall away easily, but the circle they formed gently made the entreaty that I not leave him alone.  Not now, when he was still feeling so low, and so all alone.  And who was I to say no to that?  Besides, I was tired, and it was late.  It felt good to fall asleep there, warm arms and warm body setting me so much at ease.

*****

The End (Of Part 2, That Is)


	3. Memories

Spring break is almost here, offering me a brief respite from the constant worries of class-work, lectures, and discussions.  But before that, a billion mid-terms and stuff, so I'll just pretend it's already break.  That's an effective studying method.  Finally, a time for me to relax and write the newest chapter of my precious Trigun story!  I must say, I really like this fic.  It's letting me experiment with voice and perspective as well as allowing me to delve into the mind of my hero, Vash!  I only hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 3

*****

"It's just you and me,

On my island of hope

A breath between us could be miles

Let me surround you

My sea to your shore

Let me be the calm you seek

And every time I'm close to you

There's too much I can't say"

--Sarah McLachlan, "I Love You"

I was always a very constant woman.  I had loyalties, formed by my own experiences and knowledge.  Those loyalties were a constant thing, nearly unchangeable unless by irrefutable evidence that my loyalties were misplaced.  Even then, I would go to great pains to verify that I was now making the correct decision.  Besides that, I had my beliefs, also very constant and unwavering, based on my own decisions in life.  And of course, I had my mundane routines.  These may seem to be the least important details of my constancy, but they were something that I clung to.  Every day, I would wake up the same way, go about my business as I always had until the time came to go back to bed in the same fashion as I always did, guaranteeing another day of mundane comforts, of the constancy and the reassuring knowledge of being able to say exactly what you would be doing and when, day in and day out.  Some may find this redundant lifestyle boring, but in a world full of danger and the constant dynamic of changing lives, it was a small comfort that I held very dear.  And so I went on, continuing my predictable life with only a few minor changes over time.  Even Vash's presence in my home was a small kink that I easily smoothed over, integrating him into my daily schedule.  But nonetheless, I forgot that while I can dictate my own actions, Vash is a wild card, a variable.

I was reminded of this when I woke up one Saturday morning, not in my bed alone, but on the couch, with his reasonably larger form spooning behind me as we both lay together, in a way that was decidedly less than routine.  But what happens when life changes in this way?  You work your whole life to tune your schedule, like complicated machinery, until you have it running consistently and without error.  Then one day, life throws a wrench in the works.  And when your routine crumbles down around you, refusing to work as it always has, what are you to do?  Maybe the best thing to do is pick up the wrench and start over.

----------

I woke up with the slow warmth that only a relaxed weekend can offer.  From the first flutter of consciousness, I realized that something was out of sorts, but it did not seem dangerous or troubling.  I could feel a warm body nearly enveloping me in a gentle embrace, the length of his body smoothed flush against my own, not pressing, but determined to stay close.  I knew who it was at once, not only from the scattered memories that reminded me vaguely of the night before, but also from the scent that filled my world.  It smelled of leather and my own shampoo, as well as a vague, slightly cinnamon-like scent that was entirely Vash.  It had never held a trace of danger for me, even when I barely knew him as anything more than a bumbling excuse for a dangerous outlaw.  Vash was something warm and accepting, full of love for everyone, and childishly naïve while maintaining a hidden wisdom that only someone who'd lived longer than any human could lay claim to.  And now, he was something of a giant teddy bear.  Opening my eyes lazily, I looked down to see that we were indeed still on the couch, both of us barely fitting on the narrow piece of furniture.  The blanket I'd been huddled in the night before was now draped over Vash as well as myself, his arms laced firmly around my waist.  I could feel his breath coming in short, soft puffs in my dark head of hair, so I wriggled a bit in an effort to face him, hoping to glimpse the adorable face he wore only in his sleep.

However, still asleep but intent on keeping the extra warmth he'd found himself, Vash's arms tightened as I moved.  Obviously, he thought I meant to get away from him, and he was putting up a fight to keep me there.  His grip wasn't inescapable in the least, but it was obvious he didn't want me to leave, and I was of the same mind.  Frankly, the man was warm and soft and I felt comfortable and happy.  Why would I get up?  So I gave up my effort to catch a glimpse of him, instead letting my eyes fall closed as I snuggled back against him.  His grip tightened momentarily, reasserting his desire for me to stay as he nuzzled my neck, his hair tickling the side of my face.  After a moment, he let the firmness of his grip dissipate, content to know that I wouldn't get up just yet.

"Morning," he greeted me after a bit.  My eyes widened considerably as I realized that he was actually awake.  "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I admitted, not bothering to act upset.  "How long have you been awake?" I wriggled around, finally able to face him.

"Not too long." He claimed.  At my doubtful look, he laughed.  "Okay, about an hour.  I was going to get up and fix breakfast, but I didn't want to wake you up." He admitted sheepishly.  "You want me to get started?"

"No, I'm fine." I answered.  It was clear that my response startled him, which seemed strange to me.  But then, when you care so deeply for another person for long enough, you start to forget that you've never told them how you feel.  That was the case with Vash and I.  I don't know when I fell in love with the man, but it was something I didn't really realize until after the Legato incident.  Seeing him so broken, so much in pain, hurt me deeply.  As I sat up each night, nursing him back to health, sewing his complicated jacket back into it's former condition, I realized that this strange, silly, man had somehow lodged himself irreplaceably in my heart.  I think that all that time I knew that when I finished fixing him, his wounds, his mind, his jacket, he'd leave soon after.  But I had hoped that when he came back, I'd be able to tell him all of my feelings.  I'd let him go, however, and this was a blessing, having him returned to me.  I knew that I loved him as much as I did before, if not more.  I was receiving a second chance.  The only question was whether or not I'd be able to tell him this time…

"Meryl, I'm sorry." Vash's words interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up, capturing his turquoise eyes with my own grey orbs.

"Sorry?" I asked, not understanding what he was apologizing for.  "Why are you sorry?"

"I just…well, I haven't been very fair with you." He smiled softly, brushing a stray black lock away from my cheek.  "You've been so patient all this time…"  Questioningly, I cocked my head to one side, but then I got a sudden feeling.  It was a clenching in my gut, a whirring buzz in my head, a faint numbness that swept over me and left as quickly as it came, leaving me with a new awareness of my surroundings.  I could feel the subtle pull of Vash's grip, his fingers pressing softly into my back, the loop of his arm under the curve of my waist, the thump of his heart in time with my own, the constant rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.  It was wonderful, it was terrible, it was intoxicating.  Suddenly, all thoughts fled my mind.  All I could think of was Vash, the way his mouth was slightly open, not as though he were gaping, but as though his lips refused to be pressed together, a small line between them, through which I could catch the faintest gleam of his teeth.  I forgot to breathe; I forgot how to move, to talk, and to blink.  I just stared, lost in the blue green pools that so often fascinated me.  What exactly would one call that color?  Teal, turquoise, blue-green?  None of them really fit.  They were just Vash's eyes, mysterious and bright as their owner.

"Meryl, when I'm ready, I swear I'll tell you." Vash's voice broke the spell, solemn and serious.  "I don't like hiding things from you, but you have to understand…what I did…what happened…"

"Vash, no matter what it was, I won't care." I protested, trying to shove down the feeling of disappointment.  Why hadn't he kissed me?  I'd been so sure that he would…

"What do you mean?" he asked, his blond brows furrowing in question.

"I mean…I don't want you to leave…and no matter what…I mean…" I struggled with the words.  Why couldn't I just spit it out?  And why was I suddenly feeling the need to hide my face in his chest?  Oh well, maybe if he couldn't see me, I'd be able to spit it out.  "I mean…I want you to know…I really care about you…um, a lot."  Wow, how eloquent could I get?  Apparently, my thought process was not fully recovered from the near-kiss-experience.  "I just…um, want you to stay here."

"What?" Vash moved slightly, obviously having a problem hearing my voice when it was muffled by his shirt.  "I didn't catch all of that, I'm sorry."

"I meant to say…" I pulled back and looked him in the eyes.  Big mistake.  Apparently, I'd been mistaken before about my inability to think properly.  That was nothing next to the utter lack of brain activity brought on by his intense stare.  All I could think of at that moment was that Vash's eyes were pretty.  Intelligence abounds, right when you need it most.  "I meant to say…" I tried again, breaking the gaze so that maybe I could think.  I began fumbling with a fold of afghan, picking at the fraying old bits of yarn.  "I meant…um…that I…umm…"

"Meryl?" Vash lifted my chin with one hand, looking a bit concerned.  Of course, I chose that moment to blush a color that roughly would have matched his old jacket.  How perfect.  "Are you feeling okay?  You look a bit…um…feverish."

"No…I'm fine." I felt like my chest was going to explode, my brain was going to implode, and my limbs fall off simultaneously, but other than that, I was perfectly fine.  Oh, and I was apparently trying for the world's most inarticulate female award.  I was winning.

"Maybe you need some breakfast, you think?" Vash smiled at the thought, sitting up and letting go of me in the process before climbing off the couch.  Okay, it seemed that Operation: One Coherent Sentence Might Be Nice was an utter failure.  And now he was going to make breakfast?  Right when I had him where I wanted him and I let him go again!  What was wrong with me?

"Um, sure." I felt a bit shaky, standing up and going toward the bathroom.  Maybe I'd feel better after a shower.  Maybe I'd be able to tell him then.  Yeah, and maybe he'd suddenly decide he hated donuts.  Basically, things weren't going well.

----------

After long and careful deliberation, I finally came up with a plan to tell Vash how I felt about him.  It was an intensive training program that I'd come up with all by myself, and I was convinced that it would be completely effective.  The problem was obviously that I wasn't confident enough to speak, much less think of what to say.  Therefore, I decided that I would work my way up to a full-blown confession in steps.  First, I would practice in front of my mirror, making sure I didn't look silly or say anything that sounded too trite.  This actually took me about three weeks before I was satisfied.  I wished that I had Millie to help me out, but she'd been transferred to a different company so that she could move when her family left town.  I could still hear her in my mind sometimes, telling me what to do, how best to proceed, but she seemed to have no opinions on the current issue.  Some help she was.

After I finished with the mirror, I would stay up late every night reciting the words I'd decided upon to my old teddy bear.  Yes, I owned a teddy bear.  Some might think me too serious and adult for such a thing, but what can I say?  We all have our dependencies, our security blankets.  Absolutely no one knew about him, of course.  Not even Vash, as far as I knew.

After about six weeks, I seemed to be ready to move on to the final step.  Now, you may think I'm a bit of a coward when I explain it to you, but you must understand how hard it all was.  You see, my plan was to tell him while he was asleep.  That way he couldn't look at me, and I wouldn't forget what I was saying.  Also, if he turned me down, he'd think it was a dream and I could pretend it never happened.  So all in all, it was perfect.

So why couldn't I open my bedroom door?

To get to Vash, I had to leave my bedroom.  To do that, I had to open the door.  I seemed to be stuck, though.  My hand was on the doorknob, and I couldn't seem to make it work right.  Maybe I'd just go to bed and try again the next night…no!  I had to do this now!  Why was this so difficult?  He'd be asleep, anyway.  Maybe he wouldn't even hear me.  Yes, that sounded safe enough.  Taking a deep breath, I swept out of my room and into the living room where Vash was asleep on the couch.  I stood over him silently, handfuls of my white silk nightgown squeezed into two tightly clenched fists.  Now, to open my mouth.  Maybe then I could say something to him.

"Vash," it came out as a whisper, barely audible, but that was just fine with me.  I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.  "I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a long time.  Ever since before…when you got hurt so bad…I realized that I cared about you…um…a lot…" Wait, that wasn't what I'd planned to say.  What was happening to my eloquence?  "I mean, I wanted for you and me…um…gods, I can't do this!" I huffed, throwing up my hands and turning to leave.  But something caught me around the wrist.  I gasped in alarm.  Seemed that Vash was awake…

"No, you were doing fine." His voice was soft, gentle.  I wanted to melt through the floorboards and disappear.  At least he couldn't see me blushing in the dark.  "If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you mine."

"You first." I insisted.  Maybe it would be easier to talk knowing that he'd told me everything, given me all his trust.

"Oh…okay." I could hear him gulp nervously.  Suddenly, he pulled me to him, causing me to fall on the couch next to him, his arms wrapped around my waist.  "Just…if you hear it…"

"I won't make you leave." I assured him, trying not to focus on how warm he felt, how comfortable I was.

"I…after you girls left." Vash began, his head already pressed into my shoulder.  I had the feeling he'd be crying pretty soon, and I almost told him not to tell me if it was going to hurt.  But it hurt him all the time.  I could see it, even when he tried to hide it from me.  "I did just like I'd told you I would.  I took Knives to a small town, and we lived there together.  I started to help him heal…from our fight." Vash paused.  "One morning, I was leaving for a job I'd gotten at a nearby bar, and I waved to Knives and left.  I…I was thinking about how…how he seemed to understand things now.  He wasn't…dangerous anymore.  It made me sure that anyone…could be good, if you tried your hardest to make them see…" Vash let out a low sob, and I knew that whatever it was that'd been bothering him, I was about to find out.

"That day, I got home…and I…I heard some noises in the other room.  I thought…maybe Knives is doing his workout?  So I didn't really worry, and I started on dinner.  But then…I heard…this scream…like…like…gods, Meryl…" he stopped, sobbing again.  "I went…to the room, worried…what could it be?  And he was in there…with…oh gods…he had three of the local kids…two boys and a girl…gods…he had them strung up…strung up…on hooks!  On meat hooks!  The girl was still alive…but when I came in he'd just…oh, it was disgusting…Meryl, he skinned them." Vash was sobbing brokenly, and I was too shocked to do anything but hold him.  "I…just…he had the knife and…he was licking it!  Gods, just when I thought…and he laughed at me…said I was so naïve, saving him.  And I couldn't think, Meryl.  You have to know…I shot him.  I shot him in the head.  I killed him, Meryl.  My brother.  I killed him…"  Vash was inaudible after that, sobbing into my shoulder, holding me tightly as though he thought I'd fear his closeness and he wouldn't be able to take the loss.

"Gods, Vash." I sighed, holding him just as tightly, stroking his hair as he cried.  "Shh, it's okay." I didn't know what to say, but I couldn't believe it.  Well, I could somewhat believe that Knives had done something of that sort.  He'd always been very untrustworthy and highly unstable if you asked me.  What bothered me was the fact that Vash seemed to think that all of it was his fault!  As though he'd hurt those children and then killed his brother for no reason!  I was at an utter loss, but one thing was clear.  "Vash, it's okay, you did the right thing."

"I…killed him!" he cried out.  His fingers were digging into my back, and it was starting to hurt like hell.

"Vash, come on now," I kissed his head, not thinking about the action.  "If I were there…those children, Vash.  Did the girl live?"

"Y…yes." He sniffled.

"You saved her." I told him.

"But…I didn't save Knives…" he sobbed quietly.

"Yes you did.  Don't you remember?  You saved him already, long ago." I told him, trying to stay calm and not think about what I'd have liked to do to that damn Knives man.  "I remember.  You shot him, but you saved him.  But he…something was wrong with him, Vash.  It's better this way."

"But…I don't have the right!  I don't have the right to just…just…" Vash collapsed again.

"I know it.  But you will be forgiven, Vash.  Think of it.  If you'd have saved him, how many others might have been sacrificed?  You did the best you could, Vash." I kissed his forehead, looking at his wet eyes.  "You can't always save everyone.  You aren't a god."

"No…no I'm not." He sounded a bit calmer, and his hands loosened a bit, much to my relief.  I was becoming short of breath.

"That's right." I sighed, stroking his hair until he finally fell asleep.  My secret could wait for tomorrow.

*****

The End (Of Part Three, That Is)


	4. Honesty

Oh, I just keep cranking these babies out!  It probably really helps that I'm getting such a wonderful response, though!  Thank you to all of you faithful reviewers!  Okay, well, here goes nothing!

*****

Take My Hand

Part 4

*****

"If I could say what I wanna say,

I'd say I wanna blow you away.

Be with you every night.

Am I squeezing you too tight?

If I could say what I wanna see

I wanna see you go down on one knee

Marry me today

Guess I'm wishing my life away

With these things I'll never say."

--Avril Lavigne, "Things I'll Never Say"

What is your greatest fear?  Many people fear different things.  Perhaps you fear drowning, burning, dying alone, dying at all, speaking in front of large groups, being in cramped spaces, or falling from a great height.  Maybe you're afraid of spiders, bees, clowns, snakes, scorpions, or dark spaces.  Whatever it is, there is a usually some way to cure yourself of this debilitating fear.  Most often, people will tell you to confront your fears.  That's fine for them to advise you thus, but they aren't afraid of the things that you are!

What if what you fear most is being honest?  Not only being honest with yourself, but also being honest with those you care about.  What if you can't bring yourself to tell them how you feel?  Is confronting this fear truly the only way to rid yourself of it?  And what if your honesty is met with apathy, or even antipathy?  If you are thrown down in your most tender moment, won't that only increase your fear of being honest with those you care for?  Perhaps the safest plan is not to admit your feelings until you are sure they will be returned in kind.

But then, did you really act bravely in that case, or did you take the coward's way out?

----------

Again, I found myself somewhere unfamiliar.  Again, I was soothed by the presence of the man I'd been living with for so long now, I couldn't remember the exact period of time.  I was facing him this time, though.  When I opened my eyes, I found myself looking at Vash's wrinkled shirt, noting the top button was casually undone, exposing a triangle of his warmly colored chest.  I could feel his arms wrapped around me, and something about the way they held me reminded me of a child.  He was so desperate for me to stay with him.  So afraid that this new information would cause me to abandon him.  It was funny, because the fact of the matter was that I couldn't imagine living happily _without_ Vash.  Not anymore.  He was a necessary commodity in my life, like air, or water.  He was something I simply couldn't do without.  And he thought I'd leave because he killed that asshole of a brother he had?  After what Knives did, a bullet to the head was overly humane by most standards.  I suppose I could understand why Vash felt that what he did was unforgivable.  I meant what I said to him, though.  I couldn't have left no matter what it was that he did.  Couldn't he see that I loved him?  I suppose it might have been easier if I were to let him in on that piece of information.  

And somehow, even after all we had gone through, I still found myself terrified of the idea.  Putting my heart on the line like that…there was so much to risk.  If he rejected me, I would have my heart broken.  And after that, would he leave?  I would feel terrible, knowing that I drove him away, forever cursing my selfish need to speak.  But if he stayed?  It would be so incredibly uncomfortable, having my unrequited love in the air, not answered, not returned.  I would feel as though he pitied me, and he probably would.

What to do?  I couldn't just tell him, not without some evidence that it wouldn't end up in some painfully awkward scene.  It wasn't that I was a coward; it would just be better that way for both of us.  I wouldn't want things to be difficult for Vash, that was all.  But how could I find out how he felt about me?  This was all so ridiculous; I wasn't experienced in this sort of thing.  I wished desperately that Millie could help me.  She seemed so simple and naïve, but she definitely understood emotions better than I did.  I'd give her that.  But now that I needed her, she was too far away to help me…

Wait!  Hadn't she left me her phone number?  I knew I had it somewhere.  The only problem now was getting up to call her without waking up Vash.  Well, perhaps I didn't need to call her right away.  After all, supposing he did turn me down, he'd likely never let us become this close again.  I knew I should cherish every moment I had with him.  In moments like this I could almost pretend that he loved me as I loved him.  It was so sweet, so tender, the way he held me close.  I adjusted my own arms, one of which was slung over his body, the other one was folded over between us.  Cautiously, I moved my folded arm out of its constrained prison between my chest and his.  Not knowing where to put it, I busied myself with Vash's hair, enjoying the silky texture of the strands as I brushed my fingers through the golden locks.  His hair was so soft for that of a man.  I remembered my brothers having rough, wiry hair, nothing like this soft, luxurious stuff that topped Vash's head.  I'd always been curious to know how it felt.  I knew it didn't stick up naturally, as I'd seen him with his hair tousled after a long day before, and after I found him, he'd never bothered to put it up.  It was getting a bit long, and I could tell that his hair was longer than mine.  That struck me as funny for some reason, and I was forced to stifle a giggle as I continued playing with his hair.  My hand moved lazily, occasionally dropping to touch his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his neck.  I avoided his lips, however.  I was getting bolder and bolder, though, my fingers tracing his jaw, brushing over his nose, down the column of his neck.  I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when he opened his eyes, but it was so sudden, I almost screamed in shock.

"You're still here." He smiled slightly, not seeming upset about my wandering hand.  I tucked it underneath my neck to keep it from getting any more bright ideas.  "I thought…after I told you…"

"You honestly thought I would hate you, didn't you?" I sighed, sad that he didn't have more faith in my feelings for him.  "I couldn't hate you, Vash.  It'd be easier to hate myself than to hate you."

"What do you mean?" Vash asked.  "Is this…is this about that secret you're supposed to tell me?"

Damn.  He'd remembered.  Maybe I could stall just until my courage showed up.  It currently seemed to be on vacation.  "Uh, sort of." I blushed, hiding my face against his chest.  The close contact only made my blush deepen.  This was going nowhere fast.

"Well, I told you mine." He was stroking her head softly.  "And I promise, no matter what it is, I won't leave you."

"That's fair." I suddenly felt extremely resigned.  It was now or never, not that I expected this to end happily, but nothing ever happens if you don't have the courage to make it happen.  "Okay, then."  I was very calm.  I couldn't believe it.  Any time now, the words would start to stick in my throat, I knew.  "I don't want this to hurt our friendship at all, Vash.  But I thought…I should tell you…how I feel."  Okay, I was a little bit nervous by now, but could you really blame me?  "Vash, I'm in love with you."  I could not believe I said it without my head imploding.

"Um…what was that?" I realized that I was talking into his chest, again.  Dammit!  Why did this have to be so difficult?  I couldn't possibly say it again.  I straightened my neck nonetheless, preparing to repeat what I'd said.

"Vash," I began, feeling my heart fluttering in terror.  I did not want to do this twice!  Why did I have to say it twice?  And then, right there as I sat hesitating over which words would work best, and cursing my fate for being so utterly unhelpful, Vash burst into a laughing fit.  I couldn't say anything to that.  He was laughing at me!  What the hell?  "What?" was all I could manage, somehow feeling incredibly embarrassed.  I was trying to profess my love to him, and he was _laughing _at me!  Unbelievable!

"You just…look so upset…" he chuckled.

"And that's funny how?" I was extremely upset.  What was going on here?

"I…wasn't really…gonna make you…" he finished, sighing as he stopped laughing.

"Make me what?" I wanted to know.

"Say it twice…" his voice was serious now, and the tone he used was something I'd never heard from him before.  It excited me and scared me all at once.  He knew!  Now what?  Would he refuse me, or perhaps he'd—

I had no more time to wonder, as he brought his lips forward the few inches that it took to meet my own.  I was shocked at first, but that was soon swept away by a happy wave of euphoria.  Vash was kissing me!  Did this mean…I couldn't think of what it might mean at the moment.  I was entirely too absorbed in the feel of his lips on mine, the soft noise in his throat, the way his arms tightened around me, and the sudden feeling that I'd never get enough of this.

All too soon, he broke away; his eyes looking at me in a way that made chills run down my spine.  "When the townspeople found who I was." He spoke after a moment.  "You saved me from them…something you said…I was reminded of Rem.  I realized that…I couldn't lose you.  I need you, Meryl."

"Why didn't you ever say something?" I asked, feeling a twinge of irritation, though it was nothing to the happiness that was swelling through me.

"Why didn't you?" he asked in return, smiling with laughter in his eyes.  I couldn't resist, and I leaned in for another kiss, short and soft.  He chased it with one of his own raw, passionate kisses.  As it continued, I noted that my face felt very warm.  My entire body felt very warm.  I realized that there was something behind this kiss, something more than I had expected, and I didn't know what to do about it.  With a shock, I felt something hard and hot pressing against my leg, and I nearly squealed in surprise.  What was I supposed to do now?  Vash broke away, and I heard him curse under his breath, hopping up from the couch and racing away, calling over his shoulder something about wanting to brush his teeth.

Well, that was certainly a change in routine.  Not that I was complaining.

----------

That night, I couldn't fall asleep.  I think part of the problem was that I was so high on my own happiness that I was nearly bouncing off the walls.  Well, I wasn't quite that excited, but I was extremely restless.  Also, I was troubled by the fact that Vash, not at all the lecherous man I recalled him to be, had not even asked to join me in bed.  He'd left me to sleep alone, and so there I was, four hours later, still tossing and turning.  Finally, I hopped out of bed, going to the door with no real purpose in mind.  I thought vaguely that a glass of water might be nice, but as I continued down the short hall, I felt myself being drawn irresistibly to the living room couch.

There he was, the only man I'd ever loved.  The only man that had ever loved me, as far as I knew.  What were the chances that after we parted without a single word of our mutual feelings all those years ago, life would somehow bring us together again?  At least I hadn't let my second chance go without a word of protest.  I felt as though telling Vash how I felt was probably the bravest thing I'd ever done, even compared to all those dangerous insurance control missions I'd been sent on.  Now that I'd done it, I knew that it was more than worth the terror it had caused me to feel.

Smiling slightly, I dropped down to sit beside his stretched out form, casually brushing his haphazard hair out of his face, letting my hand brush softly against his peaceful face.  He stirred slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent before I felt his arms around me, pulling me onto the couch more fully.  I wasn't about to fight against that, so I fell easily against him, my smile widening slightly as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, nuzzling his nose in my hair.

"Go to sleep, Meryl." He murmured, surprising me a bit.  Was he awake?  Probably.  Did that upset me at all?  Not really.  I grinned warmly, pressing my lips to the first bit of skin they met, his throat.  

"Did I wake you?" I asked softly.  If he was only talking in his sleep, I didn't want to really wake him up.

"I could hear you." He answered, one hand reaching up to brush through my hair.  I saw the glisten of his eyes in the dark.  "There are worse things to wake up to."

"I couldn't sleep." I admitted sheepishly, stretching out slightly before snuggling against the warmth of his body.

"Your feet are cold." He mumbled, draping his blanket more fully over me, sitting up momentarily to cover my feet.  I couldn't help but smile to see the concern he was showing me.  He lay back down, snaking an arm under my waist, letting the other hand go back to it's previous occupation with my hair.  I grinned up at him sleepily, finally feeling the fatigue that had eluded me all evening.  I moved closer to him, tucking my head under his chin as he continued to stroke my hair.  It was a comforting feeling, having him there, and the repetitive movement of his hand on my head.  I yawned, draping my arm over his ribcage, letting my fingers trace lazy patterns on his back, nothing that forced me to tilt my arm at all, or even move my wrist more than the tiniest bit.  He was wearing a cotton undershirt, and even in the dark I could see that it was white.  Vash didn't wear a lot of white, I realized idly, not thinking much about it past just making a mental note not to ever buy him white clothes.  He'd never wear them.

He fell asleep before I did.  I could tell he was finally asleep because his breathing became low and steady, his hand moving slower and slower until it finally stopped, a comfortable weight on the side of my head.  At least, I assumed he was asleep.  He'd tricked me before.  Not that it was something I was terribly worried about.  It was just an observation I made just before letting myself follow his example, my eyes closing as a darkness settled comfortably in my mind.

----------

Over the next month, I noticed a change coming over Vash.  Not only did he seem less depressed, he actually shared genuine smiles with me.  It made me pleased to no end knowing that I could make him honestly happy.  We still didn't share a bed, but more often than not, I'd end up out on the couch with him.  It wasn't that I couldn't sleep without him.  Obviously I'd lived a long time before I met Vash, sleeping alone perfectly fine.  I just liked how it felt, falling asleep in his arms.  Waking up beside him.  It was so happy, and strangely innocent.  We would exchange kisses, but it was never anything more serious than that.  To tell you the truth, I was a bit scared to take the next step.  It seems odd, but even at my age, I'd never really been with a man.  It's not that I couldn't find anyone who'd have me.  I just…wanted my first time to be with someone I really cared about.  Someone like Vash.

But now that I had found him, and told him how I felt, and kissed him countless times, I found that I was suddenly scared to try anything else.  I mean, what if it got out of hand and I got hurt?  I know that Vash wouldn't hurt me on purpose, but the fact of the matter was that I'd heard how terribly easy it was for your first time to be a terrible experience, even if it was with someone you loved.  Supposedly, it was better after that, but the idea of going through the first painful time wasn't something that appealed to me very much.  I could tell Vash was more than ready to move on past kissing, but he was obviously waiting for me to make some sort of move.  It was such an uncomfortable situation.  Imagine realizing that you were driving your boyfriend insane because you were scared of sex and he wasn't going to push you into it.  And then a terrible idea struck me.  What if I waited too long and he simply left me?  Wasn't it true that men really liked sex?  If I wouldn't…would he leave me?  Would he get sick of waiting?

It was much too embarrassing for me to actually ask him this, but I hinted at it once, jokingly saying that if I didn't put out pretty soon, he'd find himself someone who would.  Vash, of course, saw through the joke to the real concern I felt over this issue and assured me that he could wait just as long as I wanted.  He said that even if I never wanted to take that step, he couldn't just leave me.  That's when he first told me that he loved me.  It left me crying, feeling foolish for shedding tears over something so simple.  But then, it wasn't simple, was it?  Nothing in my life had ever been as complicated and confusing as my relationship with Vash.  I remember hearing how men never understood women, but it seemed that in our relationship, Vash was more empathetic than I was.  That was just the person he was, I suppose.  He always knew when something was bothering me, and though he occasionally slipped up and said something that made me angry, he was quick to apologize.  I think the reason that our relationship was so atypical was because Vash wasn't like any other man I'd ever known.  Hell, when it comes right down to it, he wasn't even human, technically, though he seemed to work about the same way as most of us.  He just lived longer and had a better understanding of the world than anyone would expect.  He didn't look like an old man.  He looked like he was in his prime, and since he was immortal, I suppose he was.

I never brought up the subject of his brother after that.  I could tell it was something that upset him, and even after our talk, he'd still look very sad from time to time.  All I could do when that happened was simply be there for him, as I always was.  I worried sometimes when I thought about his immortality.  Would it be hard for him after I was gone?  Would he get over me and move on?  Would he brood about it and become lost again, without anyone to understand him?  Or would he find someone else?  A friend, a lover, someone who could care for this old timer, this child, this man that I called Vash.  I didn't know what I wanted to happen after I was gone, but I knew that he'd manage.  He always had, after all.

*****

The End (Of Part Four, That Is)


	5. Pasta

Okay, just so everyone knows, I would probably never have written the um…scene…um…yeah, in this chapter, if it weren't for the constant teasing of my sister, who thinks it's oh-so-funny that I'm too shy to write anything that's like…um…you know…wow, I sound vaguely like Meryl at this point.  So there's sex, okay!  I wrote a sex scene!  Not the most graphic one, but look Jade!  Hahahaha!  I told you I could.  So yeah, there's sex here.  Don't read it unless you're um…don't you need to be over 17?  Yeah!  So…no kids!

Psst…Jade, Nishikado just bet Akira that I'd never be able to write this chapter in one sitting…will Akira finally win???

*****

Take My Hand

Part 5

*****

Have you ever run from the inevitable?  It's a pointless endeavor, but we've all done it at least once.  Think of the reports you've put off until the last possible minute, knowing you'd have to do them eventually anyway.  Why would you do this?  Why would anyone put off doing something that needs to be done?  And in the end, the report isn't the painful torture you imagine it to be in some moments.  It's a happy release from the constraints of responsibility.  When you can say honestly that all your work is done, you feel a lot better about it then when you can feel the reminder of that report digging around in the back of your mind.

But somehow, the situation I was in was altogether separate from an overdue report.  I needed to keep the situation in perspective.  Not everything can be equated to mundane situations like that.  Not everything is simply a situation to be analyzed.  Some things just happen when they're ready to, and there's no way you can explain them.  No matter how you analyze and compare.  It was like that with Vash and I.

----------

I suppose I knew beforehand that it was time to move on, to let things expand.  I had plenty of warning, both from him and from myself.  My resistance was weakening in favor of whatever you call the force that draws two people together.  Attraction, lust, love, call it what you will, it was beating me down.  Somehow, the idea of sex didn't seem quite so terrifying anymore.  I would kiss him goodbye as I left for work, and somehow, I would feel a need to just call in sick instead of leaving him.  The feeling wouldn't go away until I'd left the apartment and was halfway to work.  I'd keep wanting to turn around.  Sometimes, I'd get out the door, and that last kiss just wasn't enough.  I'd go back in for another.  He'd tease me about it, but I know he felt it too.  Maybe more strongly than I did, even, maybe not.  It wasn't only that.  At night, whenever we slept together, which was almost every night, I seemed to be ridiculously aware of his body and how it felt against mine.  I even wriggled against him sometimes, seemingly innocent enough, just to see what reaction I'd get.  Needless to say, I don't think Vash was a big fan of this malicious little hobby of mine.  After all, at the time I had no intention to follow through and, good man that he was, he'd never try to force me into it.

I loved the feel of his skin.  I'd slip my hands under his shirt so often, tracing those little circles on his flesh.  Every time I hit his skin without warning, he'd always make this little noise that drove me crazy.  I wanted him to make it again, but of course, I couldn't tell him this, and so it was a rare enough occurrence.  And then, there was my terrible first attempt at intimacy.  We'd been cuddling on the couch, settling down to sleep, when I got the brilliant idea to go a little too far.  I was drawing my little circles on his back, and then my fingers bumped against the waistband of the lounge pants he'd worn to bed.  For some reason, instead of the typical blush and revising my territory to at least an inch away from the waistband procedure I usually went through, I got this ridiculous idea.  Now, in my defense, it seemed like a good enough plan at the time, but I obviously had not had very much experience with men.  The idea was, if I was eventually going to have sex with Vash, wouldn't it be good if I knew what I was getting myself into?  Now, it was true enough that I'd gotten a rough estimate of his size from my repeated teasing, intentional and unintentional.  But you see, you get a much better idea of measure if something is in your hands rather than pressed against your back!  So I thought it might be a good idea, just so I could get used to it, to kind of…well…I groped my boyfriend.

The immediate reaction from him was a sharp gasp and a stiffening of his entire body.  And then I giggled.  I think I need to clarify that I was not giggling at him or at his size.  First of all, I had nothing to compare him to, and secondly, his reaction wasn't exactly funny.  The thing of it was that I was suddenly very nervous.  It was…really hard!  I mean, when my hands first got there, it seemed to be okay, and that was fine with me, but then it got more…you know…and the idea of me fitting that thing in me…it just didn't seem like a very forgiving task.  So I was scared and nervous, and because of that, I giggled.  Vash's hands moved fast, pushing me away from him as he hissed sharply at the tug it caused.

"Sorry." I told him, feeling a bit sheepish.

"You know, it hurts when you just…never mind." Vash got up and went to the bathroom.  I wondered if it was a physical hurt or an emotional one that he was referring to, but I supposed that it was probably a bit of both.  Maybe he felt like I was rejecting him, teasing him like I was, but completely unwilling to follow through.  So I guess I knew even then that I'd eventually stop being scared.  I didn't really want to hurt Vash like that, and it seemed silly to keep putting it off.  It wasn't going to be less painful if I waited longer.  And maybe it wouldn't really hurt that much.  So I knew it was coming, and I didn't dread it.  I wasn't exactly ecstatic, and I was still wary about it, but at least I wasn't that scared anymore.

----------

It was a normal enough evening, I suppose.  I'd just come home, and after Vash's customary kiss and our little mundane conversation of the day, I was ready to have some dinner.  Unfortunately, Vash informed me that it wasn't quite ready yet.  Apparently, he needed to boil some pasta and then everything would be ready.  I didn't mind, as he wasn't always completely done with dinner when I came home.  Instead of busying myself watching the news, I decided to help him.

"Anything I can help with?" I asked, smiling as I followed him to the kitchen.  He whirled around, surprised to see that I followed him like that, but he laughed slightly at my offer.

"Is boiling pasta a two-person job?" he asked me.  It wasn't an insult.  It was as though he honestly wanted to know.

"It is now!" I assured him.  "Just let me wash my hands…"

"Do you even know how to do it?" he asked.  "You're never in the kitchen…"

"You know, before you came along, I could cook for myself perfectly well.  Not that I don't appreciate it, but I do know how." I told him, rinsing the soap off my hands and reaching for the towel Vash offered to dry them off.

"Who's better?" he wanted to know, a playful grin on his features.  "You or me?"

"At cooking?" I raised an eyebrow, setting down the towel.  "You should be able to judge as well as me.  After that last time Millie and I had to save you from your selflessness, I did almost all the cooking."

"The eggs?" he wrinkled his nose.

"No, that was Millie." I giggled.

"How do I know that you aren't lying and saying that so that I think you're a good cook, when really it was Millie doing all the cooking?" Vash teased.

"Do you honestly think Millie's a better cook than me?" I pouted slightly.  "I mean, come on!  Give me some credit.  You know I'm not domestically ignorant.  Remember how I fixed your coat?  That was hard, but I did a damn good job."

"I always wondered about that.  You'd sit up all night working on that thing, but you didn't really want to finish it." He moved forward, hugging me loosely.

"When I finished it, I knew you'd leave.  I wanted to be able to tell you…how I felt first." I admitted.  "Obviously that didn't quite work as I planned it."

"We're here now." He kissed my forehead and I beamed up at him.

"That's what you've taught me, Vash." I told him, reaching up to touch the side of his face.  "No matter how much you plan something, in the end, it's all up to destiny.  Plus, it helps if you've got the guts to do what you need to."

"So," he leaned down slightly, his smile fading a bit, his eyes catching mine.  "Now you've got me.  After all that failed planning, we still ended up together.  What will you do now?"

"This." I told him, going up on my tiptoes so that I could reach him, pressing my lips to his.  It was meant to be a short, chaste kiss.  But somehow…it, well…it escalated.  Before I knew it, we were both grasping at each other, breathlessly exchanging long, deep kisses.  I suddenly needed desperately to feel his skin, so I moved my hands down to the bottom of his shirt, my fingers scrambling to get underneath the black fabric.  And there was that sound, that sound I loved.

"Vash," I decided that it was time to end the waiting game.  We continued to kiss, but soon enough, he was taking over, pressing his lips to my jaw and my throat.  He really liked my throat, I'd noticed.  Not that I could complain.  It felt great.

"Hrm?" he answered, making a soft noise of pleasure as my fingers moved up and down his back.  He was entirely occupied with my throat, and I think he forgot that we were supposed to be boiling pasta.

"Vash," I sighed slightly.  It was so hard to talk clearly when he was doing that to my neck!  "Let's…go…" I pulled at him slightly, hoping that I was headed in the right direction.

"Where?" he asked briefly before moving back to my mouth for a few moments.  When I managed to win control, I lunged upward just enough to catch his earlobe in my mouth.  I knew already how sensitive his ears were, and that was my intention.  He gasped and I let go of his ear, looking at him dead on.

"To my room." I breathed.  He didn't really know what to say to that.  Poor guy.   He's living with the woman he loves all this time, and she's absolutely terrified of the idea of anything besides kissing, and then one day she comes home from work and decides that she wants more than that.  A lot more.  He was understandably confused.

"Are…you sure?" he asked, even though I was still dragging him toward my room.  Not that he could tell, what with his face in my neck and all.  But I think he got the message that we were going that way.

"I'm sure." I told him.  He'd obviously been waiting for that.  Suddenly, he lifted me up and the last few steps toward my room were over in no time.  I'd obviously held back for maybe a little too long.  But I was ready then, that's all that really mattered.

We were still kissing, and so we fell blindly onto my mattress.  It was strange, having Vash on my bed.  The entirety of our physical relationship as well as a good portion of our emotional relationship had taken place on my couch, and now we were in my bed for the first time.  I realized suddenly that I'd not slept in my bed for at least a month.  Funny what you'll do for love.

Honestly, I expected Vash to turn into some scary, mean monster when I finally agreed to sex.  Okay, so I'd let the stories I'd heard become a bit…exaggerated.  But he was the same Vash I'd always known, just in a different situation.  He was understandably eager, pulling at my clothes and not wanting to stop kissing me the whole time, and when I think of it now, it was very adorable, in it's own sex-starved fashion.

He spoke to me the whole time, though it was hard to understand him, since his mouth seemed not to want to separate from my skin.  I got the gist of his words though.  He was trying to tell me not to worry, that he'd be careful and other such assurances.  It was a bit hard to believe he'd be calm when it came to it, considering the fact that he couldn't stop kissing me for two seconds, but I was reassured.  Plus, I might've been a bit distracted by all the kissing.

I was making my own bid for eagerness, working on getting Vash's clothes off.  Do you know how hard it is to get a shirt off of someone who will not stop kissing your neck?  It's really hard.  I finally yanked it up so hard that I think I ripped it a bit, but hey, I got it off.  Also, I'd never realized before that when you're that distracted and desperately want to work a button and zipper, it is a nearly impossible task.  Finally, he had to help me.  The only reason this didn't bother me was because he got so lost in my bra that I had to bat his hands away to do it myself, because he was more hindrance than help.

So eventually, we managed to get to an acceptable state of undress, but I still wonder whether or not it's okay to wear socks when you're doing that.  I mean, socks aren't very romantic, but they don't really get in the way.  Also, since it takes time to get them off, isn't it better to just leave them on?  We seemed to think so.  I was underneath him, not because he wanted to be on top, but because I had no idea what I was doing and figured that from the bottom, I could fake knowing better.  And no matter how eager he was, Vash remembered the whole time to let me have anything I wanted so that perhaps the act would be less frightening.  Funny, now that we were both mostly naked, rocking our hips against each other and kissing constantly, it didn't seem like it would hurt very much.

And then I felt something so good, I couldn't even make a noise to express how it felt.  It felt so good that it almost hurt, and I gasped before latching my mouth onto Vash's shoulder, not caring that I was biting him.  I realized faintly that it must be Vash's hand, down between my legs.  I don't know what he was doing, but it felt damn good.  I rocked into him, wanting more, whimpering a bit when he seemed hesitant to comply.  But that steady pressure building down inside continued to grow, and when it was too much, it was like my whole world exploded in a million tiny sparks of light.  And it was really hard to breathe.  I couldn't move for some time as I caught my breath, but when I recovered, I decided that this whole sex thing was a lot better than what I'd heard.  I wanted more, and I wasn't about to rest until I got it.

"Vash," I finally breathed, panting strongly.  "Now." I was aware of a note of pleading in my voice, but it didn't bother me.  Whatever he'd done had felt great, but I knew that it wasn't over, and if that first thing had been so good, I reasoned that the rest of it must be even better.  I don't know why everyone had always told me how scary it was, because it seemed to be going really well to me.  Maybe it was just Vash.  He was different from most men, after all.

"Are you sure?" he asked me, but I knew from the strained look on his face that if I said no, he'd be extremely hard-pressed to stop at this point.  It was sweet of him to ask, though.  I nodded, smiling and giving him a soft kiss.  "Okay…this'll hurt." He warned me, glancing down at where his hand had just been.  I could not make myself look there.  I knew that I was having sex with him, so it shouldn't matter, but it just seemed very embarrassing to look down there.  Plus, I was pretty sure that if I looked at him, I'd lose my nerve.

There was a pause, and then I could feel him there, pushing into me slowly, as though he was trying to be as gentle as possible.  I closed my eyes, feeling a welling up of fear that had apparently been waiting for this moment to appear.  I knew that I had no physical virginity due to my years of adventurous missions and rough travel, but it did hurt.  Just as everyone had said it would, it felt almost as though I was being pulled in two from inside.  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, and I could feel myself grimace in pain, a soft cry escaping my throat.  It wasn't the most pain I'd ever felt, but it hurt in a way I'd never felt before.

"I'm sorry." Vash kissed my eyes, and I realized that a few tears had leaked out as I had experienced the inevitable pain.  "I'm sorry, Meryl." He told me softly, giving me all the time I needed to recover, to become used to the feel of him inside me.  It was different, that was for sure.  "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…just…" I offered him a weak smile.  "That hurt."

"I told you." He didn't sound smug, he sounded upset.  "I tried to be careful."

"Thank you." I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.  "I'm glad it's you, Vash.  I'm so glad I waited…"

"Me too." He agreed.  "But it was really scary." He admitted.  "I didn't know for sure…I didn't want to hurt you."

"It's okay." I told him, noticing that the pain had almost entirely disappeared.  Moving my hips experimentally, I nodded for Vash to continue.  "Keep going."

"Alright." He nodded back.  I noticed then that his arms were shaking.  It was almost as though it was hard for him to hold himself up, but that couldn't be it.  Then maybe…it was the waiting?  I wouldn't make him wait anymore.  I let him set the pace, moving over me slowly, his eyes glued to my face as though searching for some vestigial sign of pain, but I honestly didn't feel it anymore.  All I could feel was that sweet pressure, building, always building.  I think that when I made a soft noise, somewhere between a wordless moan and his name, he started to believe that I was having a good time.

I think that when I started to rise to meet his rhythm, he became convinced.  And then he finally started to go faster, and both of us started to lose coherent thought.  I was gasping and moaning, and he kept making these low grunt noises, and in the end, the pressure was too much.  We called out to each other then and after riding out the waves, we both collapsed, Vash falling on top of my body.  Both of us were sweaty and panting and a bit messy, but we didn't care.  There was a feeling that surged in both of us then, something like feeling as though you were complete, feeling like you'd found whatever bits of you that weren't there when you were born.  And we were both way too tired to get up and end it.  So we lay there for about five minutes before Vash, scared of crushing me to death, rolled off of me, pulling me against him and making a vague attempt to cover us both with a blanket.  This was a fruitless effort as we were both lying on top of the blanket, and he soon stopped trying, but there was an effort, nonetheless.  After about fifteen minutes, my feet started to get cold, so I moved both of us enough to accomplish the amazing feat that had eluded Vash's ability.  When we were both snuggled underneath my thick comforter, my brain started to send me messages, albeit at a slightly slower pace than usual, but I eventually realized that we hadn't had dinner yet.

"Vash," I spoke up.

"Hmm," he was falling asleep, I could tell.

"I've never boiled pasta that way before." I teased him.  It was cruel, as he was too weak to retaliate, but I didn't think it was completely uncalled for.  "It was fun.  Let's do that again."

"Mm-hmm." He agreed.  Soon afterward, we both fell asleep, for the first time, in my bed.  After that, he always slept in my bed.

*****

The End (Of Part Five, That Is)


	6. Dessert

Oh my god, I can't believe I lived through the writing of that last chapter.  Oh my god…I was blushing so much the whole time…I hope I did okay.  Anyway, let's forge on ahead to chapter six!  Wow…I'm still blushing, and it's like a day later.  I'm such a wuss.  Man, it isn't like I don't know about…okay, let's just write now.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 6

*****

If I knew how euphoric it would feel to be in a complete relationship with Vash, I would've taken the last step a long time before I did.  After our first night together, he lost all his compunctions about me needing time and space to decide on where the relationship should go, and it was wonderful.  He moved his few belongings, mostly the clothes I'd bought for him, into my room.  He never waited for me to come out on the couch at night.  Instead, he always joined me in bed.

And he didn't always wait for me to make the first move, though he still had respect for my decisions.  If I didn't feel well or anything…well, I think you understand.  It was nice, not feeling as though I was always the one to decide what happened but still managing to not end up being totally powerless in the course of our relationship.  I let myself be swept away, doing as my emotions dictated, never questioning where I might end up.  It was chaotic, it was unpredictable, and it was the first time my life had ever been that way.  I loved it.

There were times when I needed his support, when I was overworked and I felt extremely stressed out, and I would rely on him to help me keep things in perspective.  He never failed me, but I wondered what would happen if things went the other way.  What if he needed me to be strong for him?  Would I pass the test?  Maybe he already needed me, but I didn't see it.  All of this caused me to worry when I was assigned to go verify an insurance claim.  It wasn't a long trip.  I'd only be gone for a few days, but it was the first time I'd miss a night with Vash ever since I'd found him on the streets so long ago.  I didn't doubt that I could handle the short separation, but Vash worried me.  He wasn't overtly dependent, but I got the feeling that he gained a lot from my presence.  Perhaps it was selfish of me to think myself so important, but I knew for a fact that though he acted as though he was over the pain caused by the circumstances of Knives' death, I knew better.  At least if I was there, I could take care of any problems right away.  But maybe everything would be okay…

As it was, I was understandably tense when I returned.  I was torn between feeling completely terrified as to what state he might be in, though he had assured me nearly a thousand times that he'd be just fine without me there, and being giddy with the eager need to see him again.  It had only been a few days, but I missed him with all my being.  My eyes, my lips, my mind, all of me missed him and couldn't wait to be with him again, despite the questionable state he might be in when I returned to him.  And so, I was ambivalent in my feelings as I opened the door that rainy Friday afternoon.

----------

"Vash!" I called out, a tightly nervous smile on my face.  "I'm home!"  There was a long silence, and I felt a sinking sense of dread.  My absence really had hit him hard, I thought.  But then I heard the sound of movement down the hall, hurried and urgent, several objects falling to the ground as someone came running at me top speed, nearly knocking me down when he reached me, his arms going around me immediately and scooping me up against him so quickly I lost my breath.  After my initial shock dissipated, I smiled, wrapping my arms around him as well, happy to see that he seemed to be undamaged by my short absence, but glad to see that he had missed me.  I giggled, feeling a bit foolish as I blushed at his overzealous show of affection.  "I missed you too." I told him, not being able to hold back the smile his expression demanded of me.

"You were gone too long." He told me, his smile warm and loving.  "It was so boring here."

"You could have gone out." I suggested, almost forgetting that he never went out until the words left my mouth.

"No…not really." His face sank slightly, and he let me down.

"Vash…" I figured it was about time I broached this subject.  "Why is it that you insist on staying in all the time?  I mean, I don't mind it I suppose, but it is a bit strange.  And somehow, I don't believe it's the bounty, since that never bothered you before."

"I don't like it out there." He spoke after a long pause.  "There's too many people who I need to apologize to, I feel guilty whenever I see them.  It makes me…" Vash's eyes were wet with unshed tears.  I immediately felt like the world's worst girlfriend.  I'd left for three days, and when I came back, the first thing I did was make my boyfriend cry?  Really great.

"Vash," I spoke in a soothing tone, reaching out for him, letting him collapse against me and knowing that he was crying on my shoulder yet again.  It was strange that he cried so much more than me, but I'd grown used to it so long ago that it didn't surprise me, but it still worried me since I cared for him so much.  "Vash, please, I was just asking." I sighed loudly, not meaning to let him catch my frustration, but it was a hard thing to not be able to ask the one you loved a simple question without being bombarded by an emotional breakdown.  It was true that Vash had a lot of issues he had to work out, but was it really necessary for him to be such a baby about it?  "Come on, I didn't mean anything by it.  Just…stop crying, okay?" I knew that my voice held more than a note of impatience, but I didn't care.

"S…sorry." Vash sniffled slightly, backing away faster than usual.  I noted the hurt look on his features and realized that he was too perceptive not to sense how frustrated I was by his overly emotional behavior.  "I'll…um…I made dinner." He pointed to the kitchen, looking a bit upset still.  I wondered if he was still upset about the question or if it had to do with my reaction to his tears, or maybe it was both.  I didn't really want to dwell on it, as it seemed he was feeling better, or at least a bit better, than he was before.  So I joined him for dinner, not thinking it highly odd when he listened to the story of my trip without much comment or further inquiry.  He didn't tell me about anything that happened while I was gone, but I assumed he was just tired, as he looked a bit weary by the end of the meal.

Okay, maybe I wasn't quite that oblivious to his injured looks all through dinner, so I was a bit concerned by the end of the meal.  But I had no reason to be guilty.  Not really.  I did, however, help him clear the table, all the while trying to get a few words out of him.  "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine." He assured me, but it wasn't very convincing when he was obviously pouting.

"You look upset." I pointed out the obvious.

"I'm not." He told me, turning on the water to wash the dishes.

"Are you tired at all?" I asked, wondering if it would be completely out of line for me to hug him at this point.

"A little." He answered.  "I'll go to bed after this."

"Why don't you let me do it?" I offered.  "I slept on the way home today, so I'm not really that tired yet."

"I can do them." He reminded me.

"So can I." This was getting a bit annoying.

"Fine." He turned and left the kitchen, a definite huff about him as he walked.  Great, now he was going to be mad at me while pretending not to be mad.  That sounded like it would be lots of fun.  I finished the dishes in a hurry, wanting to join him in bed before he fell asleep.  Maybe I could patch things up a bit.  However, when I went to my room and changed into my nightgown, I noticed something quite wrong with the bed when I slid into it.  It was empty.

Great.  So on my first day back, we'd managed to start our first fight, but I was confident about the progress of the disagreement.  He would give up on it soon enough, not being able to resist joining me in bed.  I had nothing to be guilty about, after all.  I may have been a bit short when he'd gone into his fit, but seriously, was I expected to put up with his constant emotional breakdowns?  Wasn't it just a bit ridiculous?  Anyone could see the logic of my position, and soon enough Vash would give up on his little grudge.

----------

It's really amazing how stubborn some men can be.  Not only did he refuse to join me in bed, he began a passive aggressive campaign against me.  He wasn't kissing me when I left for work or when I came home.  He wasn't making me breakfast in the morning, and though he still made dinner, he was going out of his way to make dishes that he knew I didn't care for or simply hated.  I retaliated by ignoring his behavior, making my own breakfast, and eating the dinner anyway just to show him that he couldn't beat me this way.  He wanted me to yell, to get angry, to be the instigator, but I wouldn't give him that much.

It was hard to maintain, though.  I missed the way he used to shower me in affection.  I missed his warm body against mine when I woke each morning or went to sleep each night.  I didn't want to be the first to give in, but it was unbelievably hard to maintain myself.  After a while, I couldn't even remember why we were fighting, and all I could grasp onto when I tried to figure it out was the idea that if I gave in, I'd be losing, and I didn't want to lose.

And then, after a while, I couldn't even think of that any longer.  We'd been fighting for about a month and all I could think of was how I missed him acting how he once had.  So one night, unable to sleep on my own, I got up and went out to him in the living room.  "Vash." I didn't know if he was awake, but I hoped that he was, selfish though it might be.

"Hnn…" he groaned, rolling over, his eyes opening and closing slowly as he took my face in.  "What?" he asked.

"I can't sleep." I told him, hoping he'd take that as an apology.

"Me neither." He answered after a few moments, sitting up completely and stretching.  "This is stupid."  I didn't have to ask him what he was referring to.

"Why did this even start?"  I asked him.

"I don't remember." He answered, sounding dead tired as he stood up in front of me, looking down with a measured gaze.  "Can we stop it yet?"

"I'm sorry." I told him, lunging forward and letting his arms envelop me.  For some ridiculous reason, I felt tears well up in my eyes.  I didn't even know what we were fighting over, but apparently I was now going to cry about it as well.

"So am I." Vash's voice cracked a bit, and I realized that he, too, was crying.  That was a bit reassuring.  "Let's never fight again."

"Yeah." I agreed, knowing that probably wasn't all that possible, but hoping that we could pull it off.  "But first, let's go to bed."  He smiled, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me there.  Maybe it was because I'd been alone for so long, or maybe it was because we were so committed to our new resolution to never again fight, but to always be happy.  Whatever it was, we were up until sunrise making up.  It had been our first fight ever since we became a couple.

----------

"Vash, I'm…what the?" I stopped in the middle of my greeting as I entered the dark apartment.  Why was it so dark?  It was light enough outside and usually the apartment was lit in the cheerful way that Vash and I liked best.  "Honey?" I didn't think of the endearing term as it slipped from my mouth.  It was Vash I was talking to, and there was no reason to be embarrassed or hide any of my feelings from him.  "Are you here?  Why is it so dark…" I drifted off, setting down my briefcase, still totally puzzled as I shed my coat and hung it up, using the light from the outside hall to guide me as I moved toward the kitchen.  I could smell something cooking, I was sure, so perhaps he was here.  Just then, I heard the front door slide shut, and I whirled in surprise, but I saw nothing in the dark hallway behind me, so I moved on.  I was sure I could make out a bit of light in the kitchen…

"Oh gods…" I gasped, utterly speechless as I reached the entry.  There on the table was a dinner set out elegantly on two plates with a single candle in between the plates.  The counter had several additional candles placed along its length so that I could see where I was going.  "Vash…" I knew immediately who had prepared such an elaborate setup, and I could feel my cheeks redden in a deep blush, embarrassed and flattered at all the trouble he'd gone to.  I could see now how the apartment was so dark.  He'd pulled all the shades and curtains, turned off all the lights, and let the candles become the only source of light.  But where was he?

"You're home, then." His voice reached me before he did, silky smooth and warm as the arms that encircled me from behind.  "I was starting to wonder if you'd be late."

"Oh…I stayed a bit to talk to my boss about…" I shook my head.  Even in this situation, I was so comfortable with Vash, I fell easily into our old patterns and habits.  "What is all of this?"

"Like it?" he asked, and though he sounded happy, I caught a tinge of fear in his voice.  He must have worried that all his work would be for nothing if I wasn't able to appreciate it.  "This isn't all I did, you know."

"I love it, but…what for?" I asked, turning to face him and inadvertently blocking his attempt to kiss my neck in the process.

"Your birthday." He sounded a bit worried, as though he wondered if he'd gotten the day wrong.  "It's today, isn't it?"

"Oh…I almost forgot." I sounded a bit ashamed at my own lack of knowledge.  "I'm glad I have you to remind me, though.  This is much better than the birthday cards mother sends…" I leaned upward, catching his lips in a slow, unhurried kiss.  After breaking it, I raised a dark eyebrow at him.  "So, what's for dinner?"

"Your favorite." He smiled slightly.  "I made nothing but dessert."

"Well, you really do know me then." I giggled slightly, leading him to the table, allowing him to pull out my chair as I admired the various dainties on my plate surrounding a ridiculously huge piece of cake.  "Mmm, chocolate." I licked my lips, waiting for him to sit as well before we both attacked the "dinner" with a vengeance.

"Is it good?" he asked me, having finished before I could.  I wiped a bit of frosting from my lip and nodded.

"You made all this?" I asked.  "It must have taken all day."

"It wasn't bad." He told me.  "I was doing it for you."  This inspired a blush that burned to the roots of my hair.  I turned my face down, hoping that he couldn't see my reaction to his comment in the dim lighting.

"Thanks, Vash." I told him, trying to keep my voice dignified.  "This is the best present I've ever had."

"You think this is your present?" he asked, looking a bit surprised.  "Well, it's a part, I guess.  But it's not done yet."

"Really?" I couldn't help but feel pleased at this.  "There's more?"

"Come on.  I'll show you." Vash was wearing a smile that I'd begun to recognize as his attempt at being seductive, and I could feel my cheeks immediately suffuse with blood.  He stood, pulling out my chair and helping me up.  I followed him down the hall into the bedroom, where he'd placed countless candles all over the room, all of them twinkling like hundreds of stars surrounding us in the small room.  I looked all around the room before I noticed that the bed was covered in rose petals.  I gasped in surprise and whirled to face Vash.

"How…how'd you do this?" I asked him.  Surely I hadn't had all these candles and roses hidden somewhere in the house.

"I got a job." He told me.  "That little diner down the street.  I wait tables some days."

"But…I thought…you didn't like to…you know." I didn't want to broach the subject of his antisocial behavior again, as it had caused a fight last time.

"I care more about you than I do about that." He assured me.  "Besides, you don't want me to be a bum forever, do you?" he joked slightly, his slow, sexy smile returning.  "Do you like it?"

"Of course." I hugged him tightly.  "I love it, Vash." I didn't want him to see that his words had brought tears to my eyes.  He really cared that much about me?  "I love you." I told him.  "Vash, I love you…so much."

"How much?" He asked.  I could tell he was only joking, but I pressed against him, sliding my hand under his shirt slightly.

"I'll show you." I answered, my voice a bit lower than usual.

"Mer…" He only ever called me that when he couldn't think straight…when we were in the bedroom, basically.  So I knew I had his attention now.  Smiling, I tugged his shirt hem downwards, pulling him in for a kiss.  While I had his mouth busy, I let his hands wander, pulling him back toward the bed all the while.  A familiar warmth clenched at my insides as we tumbled into the mattress, causing rose petals to billow about us in a sweet smelling cloud.  I could have fallen apart, I could have melted and never become myself again in that moment, but I wanted nothing more than to stay with Vash, to keep him in the place I was at, and so I was one piece for him, solid and unaltered for him.  I was everything he wanted and needed and in that moment I knew it was true.

"Vash," I wanted to somehow communicate this epiphany to him, but somehow, I couldn't think of the words to say.  I could only concentrate on becoming closer to him, as close as possible.  My fingers plucked at the shirt keeping him chest from me, and soon enough I had it off, tossing it to the floor as my impatient hands moved on to the always challenging puzzle of his pants.  All the while he pulled and worked at my clothes.  He wasn't in any hurry, I could feel that much, but he wanted them off of me in a timely manner.  Finally, we succeeded in our ends, and by this time soft caresses and sweet kisses had worked us both up to a feverish heat, each of us not willing to waste much more time in the accomplishment of our goal.  And soon enough, I longed for something beyond his knowing touches, and I reached down, guiding him to where I wanted him.  I didn't have to prompt him for him to know what to do.

"Gods, Mer," his voice grated the words out as though it was a struggle to speak, the words followed by a tight moan as he began to move in me slowly, carefully, as though he still was scared of hurting me after all the times we'd been together.  I reached for him, my grasp fumbling to pull him closer, deeper, ever toward me, making us as though we were one.  Our breaths were halted and gasping, unintelligible syllables sometimes dropping from our lips to join the noise of our irregular breathing.  The pace, so leisurely at first, almost spontaneously doubled and went on continuing to gain speed until at last we reached what we'd been striving for, and in our triumph, collapsed spent on the mattress.  

Our limbs entangled still, we let our breathing become slow and regular, occasionally exchanging soft kisses or whispered endearments.  And then Vash shifted, rolling off of me so as not to smother my small body underneath him.  I followed his movement sluggishly, cuddling up to him as he worked at pulling a blanket over us.  Finally, he succeeded in his end, sparing a few kisses to my throat and mouth before settling back down and wrapping his arms around my petite form.  I readily accepted his embrace, encouraging the affection with a few kisses of my own, aimed vaguely for his collarbone.

"Happy birthday." He was smiling.  I could hear it in his voice, right along with that content exhaustion that always filled his tone after we'd made love.

"Love you." I answered.

"Love you too." He ended the weak attempt at speech with a long yawn.  We fell asleep in that room, surrounded by candles and rose petals.  Surprisingly, nothing caught fire.  Not that I would have cared at that point.  I was in heaven.

*****

The End (Of Part Six, That Is)


	7. Millie

Okay, I know you guys aren't aware of this, since I wasn't posting chapters as soon as they were done, but instead posted a new one every week…but I haven't written a new chapter of this in like a few months…it's really sad.  I got distracted and then…yeah.  Okay, so now I'm buckling down and concentrating like I should to write this new chapter about…seventeen hours before I intend to post.  Okay, that's plenty of time, right?  Right?

*****

Take My Hand

Part 7

*****

Life can be pretty sadistic sometimes.  It seems as though it loves nothing more than to put you off balance and keep you in a constant state of bewildered shock.  One of the tricks it especially seems to enjoy is to lull you into complacency before striking full force.  By this, I mean that you will be handed a problem that, though it seems difficult at first glance, is easily solved, causing you to feel as though you can handle _any_ problem.  Of course, that's when life throws you a curve ball.  Or five.  I suppose it just depends on how "lucky" you are.

Yes, just when you are finally comfortable and secure, you encounter several new complicated problems that are made even _more_ difficult by the fact that even though you _thought_ you had solved that easy problem, only half of it was taken care of, so you've generally got issues all around.  At this point, your life becomes a jumbled mess of complications that make you want to scream, and it appears as though you may never salvage _any_ of the former peace and order that you cherished so much.  It's like trying to go straight from algebra to multivariable calculus with no help and no hints as to what you should do to deal with this wholly new and unfamiliar situation.  It's frustrating to the point of tears, and you start to think that the whole world is coming down around your ears.

I remember thinking that it would be difficult to grow accustomed to having to share my space with another person, even if that person was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  I had no idea how complicated the situation might become at that time, and so it seemed rather trying to me as it was.  Little did I know that it wouldn't be long before I was rained upon with a plethora of challenges and demands that were sure to tie my life in a jumble of indistinguishable knots, just as surely as Vash had become an inextricable part of that life.  I guess that was the one thing that comforted me through all the surprises that confronted me in the space of a very painful week.  I knew that no matter what happened, Vash would be by my side, suffering right alongside me.  I wondered at times how he had fastened himself to me so completely, but then the answer hit me, and I felt foolish for ever questioning it.

That's what love does to people, after all.  It brings them together for all the joys and pains that life has to offer.

----------

I have to say; one of the best parts about being in a serious relationship with someone you live with is waking up next to someone every morning.  It also has the potential to be one of the most distracting things about living with your significant other, but that's beside the point.  As I woke up that morning, I was looking forward to sleeping in, as it was a Saturday, one of my favorite days of the week.  Saturday was when I could sleep in late with Vash and then spend the rest of the day with him, not worrying about staying up too late to wake up on time the next day, as I had nothing of particular necessity to do on Sunday either.

I liked to lie there for the longest time, just watching Vash's face as he slept.  It was rare that I woke up first during the week, but on the weekends, I almost always got to watch his peaceful, childlike expressions as he slept in, catching up on all the sleep he missed during the week in his drive to make sure I had breakfast made for me every morning before I went to work.  It was very sweet that he showed such concern, and it was one of the things he was always doing that seemed like a repeated reassurance of his feelings for me, but I so enjoyed the chances I got to watch him sleep, to memorize his face and all the cute little noises he'd make as he slept.  I would stroke his face sometimes, as though I was trying to commit the feel of every bit of it to memory, so that if one day I lost my sight, I would still be able to feel exactly where his lips were, his long-lashed eyes, the mole below his left eye, the little silver hoop he wore in his left ear, the curve of his jaw, so strong and yet feminine all at once.  I could never decide if Vash would qualify as beautiful or handsome, but I decided that perhaps he rested somewhere between those two classifications.

I loved to feel the different textures of skin that all could be found so close together.  His soft, smooth eyelids, the slight bristle on his cheeks and chin, the smooth brow free from worries in his sleep, and the soft, moist lips.  Of course, all this exploration oftentimes led me to kiss him, as it was a temptation I could scarcely be expected to resist.  Beautiful or not, his lips were so temptingly soft, and though he might claim to have morning breath or some such thing, I could have cared less if his taste was a bit less fresh than usual.  It was Vash, after all, and I loved being close to him, feeling him, tasting him.

On one such morning, I finally decided to scoot in for a kiss, but instead of his lips, I went for his eyelids, and as my lips pressed to each one, I felt his long lashes batting slightly as the contact brought him out of whatever light sleep he'd been resting in.  Liquid aqua eyes of a shade I'd never seen anywhere else greeted me, still groggy with the vestiges of sleep.

"Morning."  I don't know why I whispered, but it seemed the right thing to do in such a private moment.  Forget the fact that no one would be able to hear as long as I didn't scream the greeting at him, it just seemed closer when I was quiet.  Besides, I hated the way my voice sounded first thing in the morning.  "Sleep well?"

"Mmm," the affirmation sounded like a low rumble coming from his chest, where I had propped my head up, and the slight vibration was comforting somehow.  "What time is it?" he grumbled, his voice always lower than usual in the morning.  I smiled adoringly at him, not caring that he always saw me at my dopiest, my least impressive.  I didn't have to impress Vash, I just had to be myself for him, and I knew it.  He'd told me as much more than once, and I think that I knew the truth of that statement before he said the words.  Of course, like most things in our relationship, it always felt so much better to hear Vash say it, rather than having to assume I had interpreted his wishes correctly.

"Still early." I kissed his chin slowly, as though it were a very painstaking procedure.  "Only nine-thirty."

"Hungry?" he asked, his eyes flashing slightly with the warmth that they almost always seemed to contain when the two of us were alone together.

"A little." I admitted, pressing my lips to his raspy, unshaven cheek.  "But not enough to get up yet."

"So then…" Vash's eyes lit with a wickedness that still made me blush.  "What should we do?"

"I don't—" Just then, the phone rang.  I believe that telephone calls should be outlawed during the weekends.  Or at least, they should be limited to certain hours.  I groaned slightly, rolling away from him to reach out for the cordless that was resting on the nightstand.  In the course of my movement, the sheet that had been concealing my chest rather well had come loose, and even though I was still essentially covered, Vash was immediately drawn to the wide span of my back that had suddenly been bared to him.  So there I was, trying to answer the phone politely when all the while, my rather helpful boyfriend was making sure to remind me what I _should_ be doing instead of talking on the phone on a Saturday morning.  "Hello?"

"Who calls this early on a Saturday?" Vash grumbled slightly as he set about kissing every inch of exposed skin, starting at the nape of my neck and working his way across my shoulder blades and down my back.  At least he was distracted, but it was difficult to have a normal phone conversation with that sort of thing going on at the same time.

"Meryl-sempai!" The boisterous, over-enthusiastic voice made me smile, even though I still agreed with Vash on the subject of Saturday morning calls.  "It's me!"

"Good morning, Millie." I hadn't talked to the other woman in some time, but I did make an effort to write her at least once a month.  However, since Vash had returned, I'd been more than a little distracted.  At the sound of her name, Vash paused slightly, but apparently he decided that old acquaintance or not, no one got between him and his right to stay in bed with his lover all Saturday morning.  He continued down toward the small of my back, and I tried to pretend I didn't feel like hanging up and letting him have his way.  "I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah!  I was kind of worried when I didn't get letters from you for a few months, but I figured that you were just busy." Millie spoke cheerfully, and even though it was good to hear her voice, Vash's lips were now working at the spots where the sheets still covered my skin.  Apparently, he'd run out of room on my back, so he was tracing his way back up along my hip.  I was almost positive I knew what his destination would be, and I didn't think my phone conversation skills were _that_ strongly developed.  "Anyway, I was calling for two reasons.  First of all, I'm back in town!  I was going to write before I came back, but it was so sudden that I figured it would be more fun to surprise you anyway."

"Wow, really?" I made it sound as though I was gasping at the announcement, and not at the fact that Vash was busily nudging the sheet off of my barely covered chest with insistent kisses and quick fingers.  "Uh…why are you back in the city?"

"That's the second thing." She informed me, apparently convinced by my great sense of timing.  "See, there's been this big claim issue.  Bernadelli called me back because they need everyone they can get back here at the home office.  Apparently, there was a train crash, because this man was running his own private train on government tracks and usually that wouldn't be bad if he kept the schedule straight, but of course, things didn't work out, and now both sides are furious and we've been called in since the man with the private train is one of our big clients.  You know, the eccentric rich people?  One of those, so we need to…Sempai?"

Damn.  She must have heard that last gasp, even though I'd been sure to cover the receiver with one hand while Vash climbed on top of me, all but pushing me down on my back so he had better access to my flesh.  He was currently hard at work driving me insane with his lips on my throat, occasionally rocking his hips into mine for good measure.  Vash made a very convincing argument.  "Uh…yeah?"

"Is everything okay over there?" she asked, and even though her tone was still as buoyant as ever, there was concern in her voice.

"Oh…yeah." I gulped slightly as Vash moved down to my collarbone, one hand going to my breast.  "I just…stubbed my toe." I lied lamely.  In my defense, it's very hard to think of plausible excuses for that sort of thing when Vash is doing that…thing with his hand.  "So…um…good to hear from you."  I hoped she'd take the hint and wrap things up.

"Oh, yeah, definitely." Millie laughed slightly.  "So, have you had breakfast yet?"

"Um…not really." Vash's mouth was moving steadily downward, and I prayed to whatever gods would listen that Millie'd let me go already.

"Well, I'm right down the street from you right now." Millie seemed pleased at this development.  "Why don't we go out?"

"Um…love to, Millie." I barely bit back a gasp as Vash dipped his tongue into my navel.  "But I have…um…a lot…of stuff…I really need to do."

"Oh!  Please?  I haven't seen you in months!" The hint of pleading told me that she wouldn't get off the phone until I agreed.

"I'm not really…dressed." At least that wasn't a lie.  "How about ten minutes?" At Vash's short noise of disapproval, I amended that.  "Um, make that twenty."

"Okay, sure.  Meet me at the little coffee shop on the corner.  You know the one with the purple cat in the window?" Millie asked.

"Yeah…g-great.  Seeya." I hung up the phone before she could question me further, practically throwing it across the room.  At that moment, my lover decided to take a pause, looking up at me with mischief and amusement in his bright teal eyes.  "Vash, did you have to do that while I was on the phone?"

"How's Millie?" he asked, as though he'd been doing _nothing_ at all to make the phone conversation more difficult.

"Good.  She's back in town." I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him closer to me.  "I have to meet her in twenty minutes."

"Not much time to waste, then." And with that, Vash's mouth was on mine once more.

I love the weekends.

----------

"And now his daughter is really upset cause it turns out that her best _friend_ was on the _other_ train." Millie had been going on for nearly half an hour about the case, and I was dreading the work I'd have to face on Monday more and more with every additional detail.  "And she's not dead, but she got really hurt and her fiancé actually lost a finger."

"A finger?" I questioned, trying to appear as though I was paying close attention, instead of listening with half an ear and turning to check the clock almost every five minutes.  It wasn't that I didn't like seeing Millie again, I really did!  But the fact of the matter was that when I left, Vash had still been in bed, and I had this hope that if I returned fast enough, we'd be able to make up for the hurried session that had taken place before I'd showered and dressed and ran out the door, still arriving at the shop five minutes late.  It wasn't that I was some sort of sex fiend or anything, but it was the weekend and we usually stayed in bed until noon on Saturdays.  After all, I was a creature of habit.

"Yeah!  And they tried to reattach it, but of course it was too late and the cut wasn't very clean." Millie prattled on.  Just then, she paused, leaning toward me a bit.  "Sempai?"

"Yes?" I gave her my best I'm Paying Attention look.

"If you need to go, you can.  I'm sure you'll get briefed on all of this Monday morning." She told me, smiling sweetly.  It was strange how Millie did that sometimes.  Just when you thought she couldn't even see you, much less tell what you were thinking or feeling, she said something that proved exactly the opposite was true.  "I just wanted a chance to talk to you before all the craziness that's going to start then."

"Uh…I can stay here a bit more." I blushed, feeling a bit like an idiot for trying to rush my visit with Millie all so I could get back to Vash.  I hadn't seen Millie at all in months, and Vash was by my side almost every moment.  And if I was really concerned with making up for before, Vash would hardly be opposed to doing that sort of thing _after_ he was out of bed.  "I just…it's the weekend, you know?  I don't expect phone calls and I usually don't really go out until later."

"Oh, that's okay."  Millie nodded emphatically.  "So, how has everything been with you?  Still in charge of the world?"  I laughed slightly at the old joke.  Millie always used to say that I was so terribly organized and so completely in control of my life, that it was like I was in charge of the entire world.  And I had been, at least in charge of _my_ world.

"Not as much." I admitted.  I wondered momentarily if Vash wouldn't want me to say anything to Millie about what was going on, but I couldn't think of why that would be the case, so I moved on, a blush staining my cheeks.  "Things have gotten a bit more complicated since then.  I…a few months ago, I met up with Vash again."

"Vash?" Millie's bright eyes sparkled with excitement.  She'd always been the chief supporter of the idea of the two of us getting together.  "Is he living nearby?  Or did he move on?"

"Um…actually, he's living with me." I felt my cheeks suffuse with blood at this statement.  I hadn't really spoken with anyone about my relationship with Vash.  Well…I had told my mother that I was seeing _someone_, which was obviously a slightly edited version of the truth, but she was my _mother_ after all.  I couldn't respond to her constant badgering about my "life of solitude" with some comment about how I was having lots of meaningful sex with my live-in lover, so she could drop it.  But I also didn't want to let her continue with her comments about how I needed a boyfriend, so I decided to give her a limited amount of information on the situation and let her interpret it on her own.  I knew now that she wouldn't rest until she was allowed to meet Vash, so she herself could approve of him, but that idea didn't seem half as terrifying as the inevitable introduction to my brothers.  Anyway, back to the _present_ situation, Millie's reaction to the idea of Vash and I living together.

"Really?" she squealed, and I winced.  I had forgotten about how loud she could get when she was excited.  "You mean…the two of you…after all that, you're together?" I could see that her eyes were wet, and for a second I almost laughed, telling her not to get so worked up about Vash and I having a relationship finally.  But then I remembered that one of the reasons she'd applied to transfer after finishing the Vash job was the man that we'd met while following Vash around.  Nicholas D. Wolfwood.  If I tried, I could still see the delinquent priest's mischievous smirk, the spark in his dark blue eyes when he looked at my friend.  I'd known then that the two of them had feelings for each other, but after Wolfwood died, I thought Millie might lose it.  Ever since then, she'd placed all her stock in getting Vash and I together, so it was no wonder she was excited now.

"Yeah, we are." I smiled, not bothering to try and suppress the blush that still stained my cheeks.  "For about two months now."

"Wow, that's so great!" Millie lunged at me, hugging me tightly.  I didn't struggle, as it was useless to try and escape a Millie Thompson hug.  It was nice, after learning about some obnoxious claims dispute that would likely have me working on overdrive for a month at _least_, to have a small bit of happiness.  And having Millie so excited about Vash and I…that was an extra bit of happiness that I clung to.

----------

"So…I'm going to bed now." Vash was standing in the doorway to our room, where he'd been lingering in an irritating fashion for nearly ten minutes.  He was watching me work, and somehow, the fact that he was watching me and I could _feel_ the disapproval and worry in his gaze just made me that much more irritable.  I'd been working practically nonstop since Millie's return, and it seemed as though for every five forms I filled out and filed properly, ten more appeared in their place.  Of course, the rest of the world wasn't courteous enough to stop whenever Bernadelli was working on a big case, so we were all scrambling to try and sort out the train disaster as well as keep up with the current claims.  It was vaguely reminiscent of that time when Vash was first wreaking havoc, though unintentionally, on every city and town he passed.  The paperwork never _ended_.  Of course, I hadn't known Vash then, and he definitely hadn't stood there and watched me work my fingers to the bone with that damn look on his face like he wanted to make me stop and just get some rest.

Didn't he understand I didn't _have_ time for rest?  This whole mess…it was such a disaster, I was glad that this sort of thing only happened once in a while, now that Vash was…controlled…or out of commission…whatever you want to say.  At any rate, he was no longer making my job harder in _that_ way, but it wasn't really helpful to have him try to mother me as though by working very hard for a month or so, I was abusing myself and needed to be taken care of.  "All right, I'm going to finish some of this paperwork and then I'll join you."  I managed not to look up at him.  That was a mistake, I'd learned.  Those eyes of his were very persuasive, and I was positive that he knew that and used it to his full advantage.

"How much more?" Vash asked.  I could hear his bare feet padding across the room, and when his smell surrounded me, I knew that he was right behind me, looking over my shoulder.  I hated when he looked over my shoulder while I tried to work.

"Just a little." I answered evasively.

"Like…ten more pages?" He was still watching me as he started the bidding for how much longer I would be up.

"Vash, this form _alone_ is twelve pages long." I explained to him, glancing back at him briefly as I flipped the pages to show him.  "I'll do ten more forms and then I'll come to bed." I compromised.

"How many pages is _that_ going to be?" Vash asked.  I didn't have to look to know that he was chewing on his lip absently the way he did when he became worried about something but didn't want to say it outright.

"I'm not sure.  A lot?" I hazarded a rough guess.  I was more than a little irritated with the way he was still hovering behind me.  "Could you just go to bed?  It's really distracting when you stand right there."

"So…will you be done in an hour?" He asked hopefully.  I had to admit, even though Vash wanted to tear me away from my work by the time _he_ was ready for bed every night, which was usually around eleven or so, he usually ended up letting me have my way and staying up until all hours of the night before catching a few quick winks of sleep and then running off to work.

"Maybe if you'd leave me alone so I could concentrate." I snapped at him.  I didn't mean to get angry with him, as I hated fighting with this gentle man, but the fact of the matter was that with too much stress and too little sleep comes a very short temper.  "Seriously, Vash, I'm the one that puts the food on the table here, so you shouldn't be telling me to work less until you're prepared to _eat_ less."

"I have a job too." Vash reminded me.  I rolled my eyes and tossed the form down on my desk, standing and turning to face him.  Fine, if he wanted to argue, I'd argue with him.  Apparently he didn't care that _I_ didn't like not being able to sleep or spend time with him or take a night off until this whole train crash business was settled anymore than _he_ liked it.  I was the one that was suffering most here, wasn't I?  So what if he didn't get sex all the time for a while, at least he could take a _nap_ if he wanted to.  I think I deserved a little more understanding and patience.

"You work at a little corner restaurant as a busboy!"  I threw the facts at him angrily.  "Do you think we can both live on what you bring home from _that_?"

"I'm not asking you to quit your job!" Vash's eyes watered slightly, and somehow, that only frustrated me.  Why did he have to start crying whenever there was _any_ sort of conflict?  "I just…think you'll kill yourself if you keep going like this."

"Well thanks for your concern, but I really don't need you following me around like some nagging wet nurse!" I was raising my voice now, I knew it, and somehow, I didn't care.  Only Vash could make me lose control of my emotions like that; anger, desire, joy, sadness, all of these were under his control, it seemed.  "For your information, I was working a _lot_ harder than this back when you were on the rampage and I had to try to stop you.  It's nice that your concerned _now_, but I came a lot closer to dying when you were the one leading me around than when I was just doing as I saw fit!"

"If I'm so much trouble, why do you even keep me around!" he demanded, his voice shaking and tears rolling down his cheeks from my outburst.

"I don't know, Vash!  Why the hell do I?" I was more than a little angry at that point, but you have to understand that I would never say that sort of thing and _mean_ it.  It just…it came out.  Because I was angry and tired and in a foul mood and I hated when Vash made me feel guilty…for all those reasons I lashed out at him when I shouldn't have.  And of course, I couldn't have just quit while I was only somewhat behind.  No, that would have made sense, but I barreled right on, ignoring the completely injured look on Vash's face.  "You come here, you live like a bum while I feed you and clothe you and let you use my home as though it were your own, and suddenly you think you can tell me what to do?  Think again!  I pay the rent, and you don't , so this is _my_ home, and _not_ yours!"  

For a long, tense moment, my words hung in the air, and I thought that maybe, though they'd been a bit harsher than I'd originally intended, Vash would just leave me alone so I could calm down and tell him I didn't really mean that.  But before the anger left me completely so that I could take back what I'd said, Vash left the room in such a rush that I thought maybe he was going to go cry in the bathroom.  It wouldn't have been the first time.  I sighed, turning to organize my work slightly so that I'd be a bit calmer before I followed him and told him through the partition of the door that I hadn't really meant all that.

I heard a door slam then, and even though the sound of it was off, I assumed it was the bathroom door and turned to leave the room.  That's when I realized that the bathroom door was still cracked open, and I realized that I'd done something I hadn't thought possible.

I'd chased Vash away.  He was gone.

*****

The End (Of Part 7, That Is)


	8. Coffee

Okay, I'd like to start this chapter with a personal note to Jade, my dearest imouto-chan: I'm _sorry_! But I can't change what happened in the series, and you wouldn't have been so devastated if you already knew! Therefore, you should _watch_ the show! It's not like it's hard to watch or anything. Well…there is that really sad part…and then that other sad part…but hey, GENOCIDE!!! Go watch it! Or at least start it!

Now that we're done with that, lets move on to more pressing matters, like poor Vash and Meryl. I think it's pretty funny that even though this is all being told from Meryl's point of view, almost everyone that sympathized with one character over the other on the subject of The Fight decided that Meryl was just being a bitch. I mean, you would think that you'd sympathize with the person whose perspective you're hearing from, but you know, I was kinda pissed at her too. I mean, seriously, why'd she have to be so mean? He was just being concerned! Yeah…okay, I need to write.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 8

*****

Sometimes I consider life to be like a very precariously stacked card castle. The more cards you use, the bigger and better your castle may become, but with that improvement in quality you sacrifice the security and stability of a smaller castle. Also, it seems that when one card falls out of place or is not stacked with the utmost care and precision, the entire tower becomes wholly unbalanced until the first card falls, bringing down several others with it. Usually, one card can bring down the entire stack when it falls out of place, and that's the real problem. If only there was a way to keep every aspect of life separated from each other, you could have a mishap at home that would not affect your ability to function well in the office, and vice versa.

It's terrible that when such things occur, you often don't realize what is happening until so much has collapsed that it seems you have to start again from the very base of your tower. And of course, after you've witnessed the destruction that is likely to take place if you build your life up once more, you are more apt to simplify your life and practice caution. Of course, you only get a chance to simplify and act cautiously if you can salvage _any_ of what has fallen down around you with seemingly no warning. At that moment, when you are feeling lost and incomplete and utterly discouraged at how quickly all you've worked carefully to build can collapse around you, that is when you decide that things cannot get any worse, any more out of control than they already are. And that is when you are presented with a new situation that you never even _thought_ about before that moment.

It just goes to show you that you should _never_ say things couldn't possibly get any worse. They can _always_ get worse, believe me. I had been working with practically no sleep for two weeks straight when Vash and I had the fight that resulted in him leaving me with almost no warning and absolutely no idea of where he could be or if he might ever return. I had wanted to chase after him, but my pride insisted that by following him, I would be admitting that he had actually _left_ me, something I hadn't thought possible for quite some time at that point. Perhaps, after all, he had only left for a walk to clear his head, and I would wake up with him in bed beside me or maybe out on the living room couch to show his continued displeasure with my harsh words and immature attitude toward his concern for me. I think that I had realized I had gone too far almost as soon as I spoke the last words of our fight that night, and I was ready to apologize by the time I climbed into bed alone afterward, tears springing to my eyes as I considered the possibility that maybe he really _had_ left for good. After all, I had basically told him that he was a burden and I didn't want him there, but I hoped that he would see through my words as he usually did, to the true meaning behind all the things I said. Vash was always so perceptive that it seemed possible, but he was also very sensitive, and it seemed all too likely that he had taken my harsh words literally and decided that he'd had enough of my mood swings and unappreciative treatment of his emotions and concerns.

When I woke the next morning, I felt a sinking emptiness flow through me as I noted the continued absence of my lover beside me. And when I got up to check the couch, hoping against hope that he would be there, tousled by sleep and still wearing his clothes as he often did when he was napping or sleeping by himself, I found it unoccupied. That's when I cried, becoming so hysterical that I almost forgot that I had to go to work still. I might have just stayed at home all day, trying to find what traces Vash had left of his presence in our home, but some habits are so strongly ingrained that I cannot ignore them, no matter how upset I am. And little did I know that things would get much more complicated before they had a chance to get any better.

----------

"Sempai! What's wrong with you?" Millie's bright blue eyes were wide and gleaming with concern almost as soon as she saw me enter the office that day after my fight with Vash. "You look terrible!"

"I'm fine." I lied as I slumped down at my desk, pulling the papers out of my briefcase and getting started on another day's worth of monotonous, dreary work. How could I have placed the importance of a few boring legal forms over the emotions of Vash? He was…so much to me. Everything in my world seemed to revolve around his feelings and ideas, and I hadn't really thought about it like that until I stupidly pushed him away and had to discover how much I had come to depend on him.

"You had a fight, didn't you? With Vash." Millie immediately knew what was wrong, and I wasn't very surprised. She'd always been able to read me like an open book, and I was so emotionally drained at that moment that I couldn't have hid my feelings from her if I honestly wanted to.

"Yeah." I looked up at her, knowing that my eyes must still be red and puffy from all the crying I'd been doing that morning. "He left."

"He…left?" Millie seemed surprised at this. She'd been to visit my apartment twice since she'd returned, and apparently she'd decided that Vash and I were in a relatively secure relationship, so it was a shock to think that we could have fought so badly that Vash would feel as though he must leave. Of course, she wasn't as familiar with Vash's self-worth issues as I was, so I don't think she could quite see how fragile our relationship had really been.

"I said…some things." I felt a blush of shame rise to my cheeks as I explained, not looking up from the form I was pretending to go over as a way to avoid any accusatory looks. "And then he left. I guess…I wasn't thinking."

"Some things? What could you have possibly said that made him _leave_? Is he only taking a break, or is he really…really gone? Do you know where he went? Have you tried to talk to him yet?" Millie always let all her questions loose in one burst as though I was possibly capable of answering that many questions at once. At least I could _try_.

"I just…said things. I didn't mean them, but I think Vash thought I did. I haven't talked to him yet because I don't know where he is. I didn't realize he was leaving until I heard the door slam shut." I could feel tears pricking at my eyelids again, and I found it amazing that I still had _any_ tears left after all the crying I'd done earlier. "I don't know if he's gone for good or not…we love each other…so maybe…" Or maybe…maybe I'd only _thought_ he loved me. I didn't know what to think then, and for some reason, I couldn't stop the tears that were falling down my cheeks. I felt ridiculous because I couldn't control my emotions and I didn't know why. Maybe it was all the stress.

"Meryl, it's okay." Millie didn't use the honorific, as she was nothing but a friend to me at that moment. She captured me in a hug, letting me cry out my confusion on her shoulder as she assured that it would all be all right. "He loves you, I know he does. I could see it when he looked at you." And even though it sounded a bit hokey, that made me feel better than anything else.

----------

It's funny what kind of things can change your life forever.

I couldn't help but think of that as I stared down at the stick that I was holding in my hand. To someone who had never seen one before, it would seem to be some sort of thick white pen that was a bit flattened and wider toward the middle of it's length. I was looking down at the little window that was in the plastic there, where two little lines looked back at me with a clinical detachment that only a medical test can offer.

I had purchased the test with only a slight amount of worry that perhaps the reason why I was over a week late was because I was pregnant. I had assumed that, as was normal in my life, the irregularity in my cycle had been caused by undue amounts of stress. Considering that Vash had been missing for almost two weeks and the fact that I was still constantly bogged down with work stemming from the infamous train accident and it's unending related legal disputes, this seemed like a relatively likely diagnosis, but when I was at the store purchasing more coffee and batteries for my remote, I had seen the tests sitting on the shelf and impulsively decided that it was better to be safe than sorry. After all, Vash and I hadn't exactly shown a lot of concern toward protection of any sort, and I guess we figured that since I hadn't gotten pregnant yet, it wasn't something to worry about or discuss.

Now I realized how stupid it was to take such a foolhardy approach, but in our defense, we'd never been in a long-term relationship with someone else before, so we really didn't have any prior examples to use as a model for how to approach the idea. I should have thought of it before, after all, having sex all the time would _eventually_ result in a baby, but I guess somewhere along the line, I never made the connection that if _we_ continued to have sex all the time, _I_ would get a baby whether I wanted one or not. That is why you should never get caught up in the romance of a situation. It makes you unbelievably stupid.

Still gripping the pregnancy test tightly in one hand, I left my bathroom and went straight for the phone. I had to tell someone so that maybe they could tell me what I was supposed to do now that I was single and pregnant and had no idea where the father of my child was. But as I held the receiver in one hand, I started to feel doubts creeping up over me. What if the test was wrong? What was the point of getting worried about something that was only a false alarm? And besides, maybe Vash would till come back. I had to keep believing that. I knew that Millie was trying to find him, though she was attempting to keep this a secret, as I had told her not to bother with it, he would come back if he truly wanted to anyway, and it wasn't my place to hunt him down. I was touched that she would do what she obviously saw to be in my best interests whether I had given her permission or not. However, the fact that he had been gone ten days already had me more than a little worried that maybe he really _was_ gone for good. Apparently, he'd never cared as strongly for me in the beginning anyway, so he could only put up with so much of my bad treatment before he called it quits and moved on.

And who could I possibly tell? My mother? She'd kill me. My brothers? They'd hunt Vash down and kill _him_. I never really had a close relationship with my father, so that wasn't an option either. Millie would be a perfect candidate, but she would likely have a fit if she found out that this situation had just grown even _more_ complicated. She was really such a good friend, I couldn't bear to cause her any more trouble or worry her. In the end, I decided that I would wait and see what would happen. Either this thing was just a fluke and I was still in normal health, or I would have to come up with something to tell my family pretty soon. Although, besides all the worry and nervousness the idea caused, I secretly relished the idea that Vash, even if he never did return to me, had left a bigger piece of himself than I could have hoped for otherwise. No matter what happened, if I was really pregnant, I would keep the child. It might be all I had left of the only man I'd ever loved.

Setting the phone down, I decided that it was time for a nice, long walk. I grabbed my coat and my purse and headed out the door, my head still swimming with the implications of the positive test. Even if I didn't tell anyone now, I _would_ eventually have to explain to my mother that the man I had been seeing had been living with me, sleeping with me…I didn't really want to do that. I might have been far past the age of having to fear maternal punishment, but that didn't mean I wanted to aggravate the woman. My mother and I had never been exceptionally close, which might have been why I kept things from her. She knew that I was an insurance worker, but she had no idea that I went on dangerous control missions. Not that I had gone on anything even slightly dangerous compared to the Vash job, but still. She thought I was perfectly innocent, and if she knew how many derringers I usually carried, I don't know what she'd do.

And then there was the problem of my brothers. They would want to hunt down the father and castrate him slowly. They'd always been protective of me in our youth, and though I had distanced myself from them early on, I knew them well enough to know what their response would be. Aaron and Gavin seemed like normal men, perfectly peaceable and even a bit bumbling, but when it came to my honor…they were very committed. Maybe that was part of the reason Vash was my first. I had liked other guys, but never enough to want to risk my brothers finding out and killing him. It takes love to make you blind to consequences.

Just then, I heard something that sounded familiar, and I froze. Was that Vash's voice? I stepped back slightly, looking inside the little coffee shop I'd just passed, and there he was. I couldn't see his face because his back was to me, but I knew I'd recognize that hair anywhere. He was sitting with Millie in a booth, and from the look on her face, they were arguing about something. I stood there for several moments, debating whether I should go in or not, but as someone brushed past me, I was all but pushed in, and then he looked up and I knew it was too late. There were so many things that flew through my mind as Millie and him both looked up at me as I made my way over to their table, feeling as though this whole situation was very surreal. I could tell they both expected me to say something, and Vash looked more than a little nervous. I wanted to ask him why he left me, if he'd come back, if I could kiss him, if he missed me. I wanted to tell him I loved him and I was sorry for everything I said, and I was stupid to let my stubborn pride get the better of me. I wanted to get on my knees and beg him to take me back.

"Um…can I join you guys?" That was what I finally said, sounding incredibly stupid and unsure of myself. It was pathetic, but it was all I could do not to fall apart in the middle of that coffee shop and start crying and pleading with Vash.

"We were just talking about you." Millie looked as though this sort of thing happened to her every day, and her broad smile almost put me at rest. Almost. "I actually have to get going right now, but don't mind me. I'm sure you two can find something to talk about." She was so unbelievably cheerful through it all that I felt the strength to move and take her place across from Vash, who's eyes were boring into mine with more emotions than I could identify. As Millie waved and left, Vash bit his lip and looked away uncomfortably.

"I…should go too." He finally spoke, and even though he sounded like he was about to start crying, the sound of his voice was so sweet that I felt myself melt inside.

"Vash…please stay." I stopped him, my hand shaking as I held it up. I pulled a napkin out of the stack on the side of the table and began worrying it with my fingers, staring at it so that I wouldn't have to meet his eyes. "I miss you." I told him, feeling my chest constrict and knowing that if I had to make many more like confessions, I'd start to cry regardless of my usual emotional restraint in public _and_ in private.

"That's what Millie says." Vash answered. I could tell from the tightening of his mouth that he was still mad about what I'd said to him. "But you're the one who kicked me out."

"Kicked you out?" For a moment, I felt a surge of indignant anger. He was making it seem as though I had been the only one at fault, as though I had thrown him out on the street with no choice but to return to homelessness. And yet…I realized that to him, maybe it had seemed as though I _was_ kicking him out. The words I'd said…they still stung in _my_ ears. I could only imagine what Vash must have been feeling. "I didn't…Vash, can we go for a walk? I don't like talking in here. There are too many people."

"Yeah." Vash flashed me the briefest smile of relief, and I figured that he must have been just as uncomfortable with discussing our private problems in the middle of a crowded coffee shop as I was. I should have guessed as much, considering his usual affinity for staying at home, away from the public eye. I understood why it was that people as a whole made Vash a bit nervous, but I supposed that I would never feel it to the extent that he did. That did not mean I wanted to discuss our relationship in a coffee shop, but the fact that it made me feel awkward gave a hint of how nervous Vash must have been feeling before I finally suggested we leave.

Neither of us had anything to take with us, as Vash was wandering around without any sort of a jacket and I hadn't taken mine off at all in the brief time I'd been in the coffee shop. I eyed his dirty outfit critically, and even reached up to almost brush my hand over the newly formed stubble that was edging on becoming a full-fledged beard covering his cheeks and chin. He looked at me when I reached up, however, and I didn't have the guts to actually touch my face considering the situation. We were fighting, as far as I knew, and even though we'd both had time to think about it and cool down a bit, I was pretty sure that we weren't allowed to be touching and kissing as though nothing was wrong. What are the rules of displaying affection when you're fighting with your boyfriend, anyway? I wasn't sure, so I decided not to let myself feel the bristly texture of Vash's face.

"You look filthy." I commented, taking in the state of his clothing and the rest of him as well as we walked down the street. "I forgot how it was when I first found you."

"You make it sound like I'm a stray dog or something." Vash didn't sound entirely pleased, so I decided to drop it. After all, I reminded myself, I was at fault here much more than Vash was. He may have overreacted, but I had gone way too far with my insults, and I knew all the while that Vash had a tendency to take every harsh word much more seriously than it was intended.

"So…how did Millie find you?" I asked, deciding that I wasn't brave enough to launch straight into an apology.

"Checked all the dirty alleys." Vash was obviously in a bad mood, and he seemed to be blaming his current living situation on me, which I thought was entirely unfair. I _did_ say some mean things, but I really hadn't forced him to leave, and I knew that if Vash really wanted some other place to stay, he was perfectly capable of making the money to pay for such a luxury.

"Vash…I shouldn't have said those things." I told him, deciding that I needed to skip the small talk before I _really_ started to get mad at Vash. After all, I just wanted this fight to end, and I didn't _really_ care if he thought I was the only one at fault here. I knew I had done something wrong, so I was doing what I could to make it right.

"Why not?" Vash shrugged. "Everything you said was true."

"What?" I nearly squawked in protest. "No it wasn't! I was just mad! I was trying to make you leave me alone, and I went too far."

"It _was_ the truth, though." Vash pointed out. "I don't pay the rent. You bought all my clothes, almost all the food comes from you…all I do is cook and clean and make a little change down at the diner." I didn't really have anything to say to that at first. It _was_ true, wasn't it? I was really the main provider between the two of us, and though it didn't bother me in the slightest, apparently it was a very painful thing for Vash or he wouldn't have left when I brought it up.

"Vash." I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I knew that no matter what, I wanted him to come home with me. That was when I realized that we were headed toward my apartment. I could see it, just a bit further ahead of us, and I wondered if it was out of habit that we were going this way, or if Vash had chosen this path. I couldn't recall who was leading between the two of us, and I realized that like many things between us, it didn't matter. It was so mundane that it didn't compare to the things that were, to me, truly important. Licking my lips, I decided to give voice to this. "That doesn't matter to me." I started, pausing to let him understand what I meant.

"The fact that I'm a bum?" Vash asked, and I winced at the bitterness thick in his voice. That voice of his was too sweet and pure to be bitter. It hurt to hear it there, and I pressed on, stopping as we reached the entry to the apartment complex.

"Vash, I don't care that you're not rich and that your job is scrubbing dishes and bussing tables at a tiny corner diner." I told him firmly. "I don't care that you sometimes mix up my papers when you're cleaning my room, or that your feet are cold when you come back to bed after getting up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night. Those things…they aren't _important_ to me."

"Then what is?" Vash demanded. "If you didn't care about every little thing I do wrong, why do you keep track of _all_ of them."

"Vash…are you saying that you don't notice when I do something that you don't like?" I asked him. He shook his head sheepishly before I continued. "All I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be _perfect_ Vash, because I loved you when you were a lot worse off than this, and none of that bothered me. I still love you. And _that's_ what's important here."

"But…doesn't it bother you that I don't do anything?" Vash was obviously confused.

"You do just as much as me, but you do it at home." I pointed out. "You cook, you clean, you have everything ready for me all the time. Sometimes I feel as though _I_ don't do enough, to tell you the truth."

"No, Meryl, that's not true." Vash shook his head immediately. "You do plenty!"

"Then don't fight me on this." I smiled at him softly. "Can we just…go home now?" I reached out a hand, and he smiled back at me slowly before reaching forward, his fingers enveloping mine like a glove of warmth before we both went inside and up to our apartment. As soon as the door closed, the timidity that Vash had been displaying seemed to flee, and his hands and lips were all over me as I returned his enthusiasm at the homecoming. It had been ten days, but in my mind, there had never before been a longer week and a half in the history of time.

We spent the rest of the evening making up, and I forgot all about the pregnancy test until we were lying together on the bed, Vash already fast asleep with his arms around me as I lay in utter exhaustion, recalling how strange the day had been. When I recalled the test, I remembered that I had left it out on the end table by the phone, but I couldn't bring myself to escape the warm cocoon of Vash that surrounded me to go dispose of it. I couldn't tell him yet, I knew that, but I would do so in time. And now that he was with me, I knew that everything would be alright. Love makes every problem you have seem unimportant in comparison to the joy it brings.

*****

The End (Of Part 8, That Is)


	9. Bills

Yay!  I'm back!  A few of you have been asking about some pretty obvious things, and I'm glad you have because I was going to bring them into the story soon enough.  The idea was that you get so caught up in what's happening in the personal relationship between Vash and Meryl that you forget the problems of the outside world, etc.  Notice how the whole pregnancy thing came as a surprise to Meryl, who is usually so logical and understands consequences and all that?  This is another example of how they've been shutting themselves off from the world.  Millie's entrance was a small precursor to this, not that she's a _problem_ but she is a reminder of the fact that beyond their cozy little apartment, things _do_ go on as normal, and that could be problematic for our lovebirds…

*****

Take My Hand

Part 9

*****

Have you ever been tempted to live the fairy tale?  You know, the one that you hear about since you can barely remember.  A prince comes to you, sweeps you off your feet, rescues you from the mundane bore of your life, and you fall madly in love, living happily ever after.  You have babies together and no matter what happens, you love each other and can always rely on the prince's great strength.

For some reason, they never tell you that you and the prince will likely get into endless stupid fights about nothing whatsoever, no matter _how_ much you love each other.  They also neglect to mention that sometimes, the prince is a wanted outlaw who has to maintain a low profile, so he rarely leaves the house and develops a weird sociophobic complex that won't go away, no matter how many tables he busses at the corner diner.  Because of this, when you become pregnant it's something of an issue because of the fact that you are the main source of income for your little fairy tale existence.  And then you start to realize that it's nearly impossible to stay at work once the pregnancy becomes highly apparent and more debilitating, and this could really cause a problem for you and your financially dependent prince.  So you start budgeting to be able to survive up to three months without income from your steady job, but of course, you haven't informed the prince as to your condition yet, so he doesn't understand why suddenly, you're clipping coupons and buying only what you deem absolutely necessary.  He just thinks it's some strange female phase.  That, or your overly perceptive prince suspects that all is not as it should be.

And then, what will happen when he finds out that even though he has saved you from your life of solitude, your dear prince has plunged you into a world of financial issues you never thought you'd experience?  Will he go out, determined to overcome his constant fear of being recognized and forced to move on, so that he might be able to support his small, growing family?  And if he does, what will come of it all?

Yes, I had it all in my hands.  The fairy tale was mine, but they never tell you the details, and it's the details that can steal the fairy tale away from you again.

----------

It was two months after Vash came back, and I still hadn't told him about my condition.  At first, I had justified it by telling myself that I wasn't really sure of anything yet, and until I was, it wouldn't be wise to go around telling people that I was pregnant, even if one of those people would be the father of any child I might be carrying.  And then…after I was sure, I think I started to feel guilty for not telling him right away, and then I started pushing it off, over and over.  I would say to myself "I'll tell him this week" and before I would know it, the week had passed and I still hadn't found a good opportunity to explain to him exactly _why_ I had become overly moody and was experiencing regular bouts of morning sickness.  But then I started to realize that there was no way I'd be able to work straight through my pregnancy.  I had saved up three weeks of paid vacation, but I somehow doubted that I would be able to work up into my ninth month and then come back as soon as the baby was born, so I knew that I would have to budget for at _least_ a month without pay, and that was truly worrying.

I had never really bothered to worry about how Vash had affected my finances, as we still did well enough that money wasn't a problem, but there's something about babies that can be rather problematic.  To put it simply, they're rather expensive.  Not that I didn't want this child enough to deal with the financial compromise involved, but the fact of the matter was that it would be more than a little different from there on in.  No more splurging on new clothes or the most expensive food.  I would have to learn to be careful with money if I wanted to be able to get through this pregnancy with our finances intact.

And then, one afternoon as I sat clipping coupons and scribbling down numbers, a terrifying thought hit me.  I pictured a woman who was older than me with longer hair and a slightly different face doing the same thing as me and I realized that it was a memory from when I was younger.  That's when I realized that I was becoming my mother.  And I knew, it was only the beginning.  Somehow, I could see myself baking cookies and shaking my spoon at my child, telling them to stay out of the kitchen until I was finished.  I was…I was becoming my mother.

As I sat frozen, in a state of perplexed shock, Vash came into the room, grabbing his boots and sitting on the bed to slip them on.  He noted my state of confused worry, and without a second thought, he smiled and came over to my desk, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head.  Vash didn't need to know what was wrong to know that I really needed a hug right then.  Maybe that's part of why I love him so much.

"You okay?" he nuzzled against my hair, moving his hands and beginning to rub at the knots in my shoulders.  I could feel my tension seep out under his talented fingers, and a small smile reached my lips.

"I was just thinking…sitting here trying to clip coupons and make ends meet…I used to watch my mother do that sort of thing all the time." I chuckled slightly at the admission as I let my head loll back, relaxing into the massage I was receiving.  "Made me think…I'm becoming my mother."

"I'd like to meet your mother." It was a fervent whisper, as though he was afraid I would refuse him that little bit of normalcy.  My eyes came open, and I blushed, feeling stupid for not having offered to introduce him to my family earlier.  It seemed like an obvious thing to do, but I was still worried about it.

"I should take you home to meet my parents." I offered, reaching up a hand to cover his as his fingers continued to work on the knots in my flesh.  "After all…things between us…" I was blushing again, and I didn't know why.  Couldn't I simply speak the truth?  Couldn't I say that I wanted to stay with him forever?  I suppose it was still hard for me to admit, even though I knew it was the truth.

"I'd like that." He pressed his lips to my temple, and my smile widened slightly.  "Meryl…can I ask why you've been so…frugal lately?"

"Um…I just thought we should be more careful." I explained to him evasively.  "No reason to waste money, I guess."

"Oh…I'm sorry." Vash always got apologetic about the finances.  I suspected that despite what I'd told him, he still didn't think it was fair that he didn't have to make barely any money and I was our main source of income.  "Are we…in trouble at all?" he wanted to know.  I put down my pen and turned to him, letting my fingers brush up over his jaw as his hands dropped from my shoulders.

"No, not yet…" I told him, standing so that he didn't have to lean down over me.

"Are we _going_ to be in trouble?" he wanted to know, and the concern in his aqua eyes made me feel guilty for keeping my condition from him.  That was the real reason for my newfound sense of economy, after all.

"If we aren't careful, it could be bad." I admitted, trying to gather my courage and explain what I meant by that.

"It's…because of me, isn't it?" Vash was obviously upset, his shoulders hunching over at the thought that he was a financial handicap.  "I'm sorry…you've been so worried lately you've been making yourself sick, haven't you?"

"No, it's not you, Vash." I burrowed my face against his chest, unable to meet his eyes as I reached down, twining my fingers through his.  "Vash?"

"Yeah?" he still sounded so dejected, and I wondered momentarily if the news wouldn't be welcome, but I knew that I had to tell him eventually.  It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to figure it out once I started to show.

"I'm pregnant." The words felt heavy on my tongue, as though carrying with them the gravity of the situation.  Vash's fingers tightened almost painfully at the shock of the statement, and he used his free hand to tilt my chin up so that he could see me better.  His eyes were wet, and his lip was trembling when he finally managed to speak.

"What?" he prompted me to repeat myself.

"I'm pregnant." I told him.  It wasn't nearly as difficult the second time.  "I…should have said something, but I couldn't think of how to tell you."

"How…long?" he was still in shock, and I couldn't tell if he was excited or upset.

"I found out just after you left." I told him.  "I didn't want to tell you then…I still wasn't sure.  But I've gone to a doctor…I'm due in six months.  That's why I've been…sick lately, and it's kind of an issue with finances and all…since I'll have to take time off and all that…Vash?  Say something." I was beginning to worry that maybe he really _didn't_ want a baby.

"You're pregnant?" he still seemed unsure about whether I was teasing him or not.

"Yes, with your child." I clarified, as though there was any doubt.

"And so…does anyone know?  Your mother?  Millie?" he asked, his lip still trembling slightly.

"Um…no, just my doctor and me.  And you, of course." I told him, trying desperately to read the emotions swirling through his bright eyes.

"Do you…want this?" his face broke into a smile then, and I felt as though there had been some struggle in me that had suddenly disappeared.  Vash made the world so complicated and so simple all at once.  "To start a family?  A real family?  With me?"

"Vash, I love you." I reminded him, his smile causing my own lips to quirk up in response.  "I want to stay with you forever."  There, I'd said it.  And judging from the response, a short sound of joy before Vash began smothering me in hugs and kisses, I decided that it wasn't an idea that he was at all opposed to.  I supposed I would have to introduce him to my family after all, if I was to spend the rest of my life with him, to bear his children, but right then, I just concentrated on the feel of him, the scent and taste of him, and the love that poured from him at the knowledge that his child was inside of me.

----------

"Meryl, are you sleeping?" Vash was whispering as he lay next to me in our darkened room.  I smiled slightly, rolling over to face him, not bothering to brush the strands of black hair out of my face as I did so.

"No." I answered, moving to snuggle closer to him.  "I just got in bed.  How am I supposed to get asleep that fast?"

"Well…I thought…since you're pregnant." I almost laughed out loud at his reasoning.  Ever since I'd told Vash about my condition, he seemed to think that I would behave completely different from how I normally did.  Of course, this was because I was pregnant.  "So…I was thinking something."

"What's that?" I asked, my smile fading away as I let myself relax against his warm body.  It was so nice to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart, I thought I would never possibly tire of it.

"Well…you know how you're pregnant?" he asked.  I did laugh then, a slow chuckle escaping my lips before I kissed his throat softly.

"It's hard to forget when you remind me every five minutes." I told him.

"Anyway…I thought that maybe I should work more, down at the diner." Vash explained.  "I only work there a few hours a week now, but I could work more, and then maybe…it wouldn't be such a problem, with money and all that."

"But Vash," I smiled slightly as I felt his hand drift down to my side, his thumb rubbing over my stomach as though he was trying to verify the presence of the child inside.  "If you worked all the time, who would clean and cook and spoil me all the time?"

"I could still do that too." He insisted.  "I just thought that I should be helping out more.  I mean…you wouldn't be pregnant if it weren't for me."

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing." I teased him.  I had been moody lately, so it was probably a good thing that he hadn't caught me in one of my foul tempers, as I would have likely taken that remark entirely the wrong way.  "I like it like it is now.  You don't need to do anything more than what you do now."

"But I _want_ to do more." He told me, kissing my forehead as though that would win him the advantage.  "It's my baby too."

"I know that, and I appreciate your concern, but Vash…" I hesitated to bring it up, but the part of me that was all logic and common sense couldn't let it go.  "Vash, you can't work full time.  First of all, you're terrified to leave the house for even a few hours a week as it is, and secondly, what if someone were to recognize you?  You shouldn't even be leaving the house, and I wouldn't allow it if I didn't know that you're perfectly capable of dealing with anything that could happen.  Also…well, it's not like many people actually _know_ what you look like…so I guess…but I don't think it's a good idea."

"But you just said," Vash moved slightly to look at me, though I couldn't make out his face very well in the dark.  "No one really knows who I am."

"I'm sure some people could figure it out." I sighed slightly, not wanting to get in a fight at the moment.  I'd been in such a good mood, too.  "It wouldn't be the first time.  Remember, you're a magnet for trouble."

"It's not that I _try_ to start things.  They just seem to happen." Vash was defensive now, a sure sign that an argument was brewing.

"And then you get involved, and then everything gets blown up, and then people start to put two and two together…" I left off there.  I still was hoping that maybe we could just go to sleep without any anger between us, but Vash needed to understand that I was _right_ in this case.

"That won't happen just because I'm bussing more tables and washing more dishes.  I kind of doubt that the diner is a big criminal hangout." Vash told me, his tone clipped.  I sighed loudly, rolling away from him and looking at the darkened room as though it was much more fascinating than him.

"Whatever, don't listen to me.  Obviously I learned _nothing_ about your ability to get yourself in trouble while I followed you around for the better part of a year." I told him, my tone growing a bit harsh.

"Meryl…I don't want to fight about this, I just thought it would be good." Vash moved so that he was close enough to pull me back against him.  "I thought…I should try harder to take care of you now…that things are changing."  I hesitated, after all, I didn't _really_ want to fight with him either, "I just want to be a good father.  I want to take care of you…both of you." His hand found it's way to my stomach, resting there protectively, and I felt massively ridiculous because at that moment, I began to cry.  I mean, it had been somewhat touching, but I wasn't one to break down at the slightest provocation.  Still, the pregnancy seemed to be affecting my emotions strangely, and at times I felt as though I was just as touchy as Vash, if not more so.

"I was just…worried about you." I told him, turning over and burying my face in his chest as though it would hide the fact that I was crying if I just let my tears fall on his skin instead of on the pillow.  "If someone found you, what would we do?"

"No one will find me." Vash told me, kissing my forehead.  I thought about this for a few moments, and though I knew that he was probably right, I couldn't help but feel a bit of trepidation.  And then I realized that this doubt, this worry, this constant concern for someone else above yourself…this was a family.

"Okay." I agreed, kissing his throat softly.  "If you want to do it."

"I do." He told me as his hand returned to my side, his thumb rubbing my stomach slightly.  "I hate being useless like this."

"You've never been useless." I assured him.  "Vash?"

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice considerably more relaxed than it had been.

"I have to tell my parents about the baby…do you want to come with me?" I asked him, hoping that he wouldn't force me to do it alone.  Something in me said that it would be wrong to do it without him.  "I'm going to have dinner with them on Friday night."

"I get to meet them?" the innocent joy in Vash's voice made me smile again, all my nervousness dissolving under the easy reassurance of his constant love for life and for me.

"Yeah, you get to meet them." I told him, kissing his chin to indicate that I wanted him to turn his face down so I could kiss him properly.  "My brothers might be there.  It could get…interesting."

"It'll be okay." He assured me, tilting his head to kiss me softly.  "We'll be together."

"I love you Vash." I sighed happily, kissing him again.  "You make everything better."  And it was true.  He really did.  Vash was the best part of my life.

*****

The End (Of Part 9, That Is)


	10. Dinner

Okay, I just want you all to know that I do really appreciate reviews, but there are some times…okay, let me just say that if one more anonymous unsigned reviewer asks me about Vash's coat, I'm gonna blow a gasket. Perhaps I wouldn't mind so much, but the fact of the matter is that seriously, I'm under a lot of pressure right now. It's the end of the year, I'm prepping for finals, I just went through this obnoxious torture trying to secure my summer plans…basically, I mean to say that I _do_ have a life. Yes, despite the weekly updates, I do have many other things to do, and sadly for you, this is not my top priority. It's a hobby. Oh Ashley, you are sooooooo hot. I want to do you. It's like all I ever think about. And although I like it a lot, I sometimes forget that I can't simply _assume_ that my readers understand everything that I understood coming away from the show. Apparently, my subtlety is wasted on some of you, but I will give you a chance to figure it out for yourselves. I hate explaining things to people who should be able to figure it out for themselves anyway. And now, on with the show. Yes, Ashley, my sweet lover. You are such a tasty treat.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 10

*****

Do you remember as a child when you first started to keep things from your parents? Neither do I. It seems as though as soon as we learn to speak; we learn how to _not_ speak at certain times as well. I like to think that this does not count as actually _lying_ to your parents, as you aren't telling them anything about your transgressions, no matter what they might be, so you are simply withholding information. After all, if you steal a cookie and your mother never notices to ask you if you did it, you aren't lying by not simply _volunteering_ that information. Obviously, if she didn't notice the cookie's absence, it was not really a major case of rule breaking from the beginning, so why cause trouble by making it into a big deal and telling her?

But sometimes, you know that your parents will learn the truth whether you tell them or not. For example, if your snitching older brother _watches_ you steal the cookie, then you might as well go to your mother and tell her what you did, because you will likely be in for less punishment than you will suffer from when your brother tells her himself. Or, perhaps you've done something that's a lot more noticeable than stealing a cookie. Perhaps you've gotten yourself pregnant with the child of a man who your parents have never even met. Perhaps the man is a wanted outlaw with a sixty billion dollar bounty on his head. Then you start to wonder what exactly you _have_ to tell your parents to avoid them finding out the truth by some other means and then never forgiving you for your edited version of the truth.

A parent's trust is a valuable thing, but behind the need to maintain that trusting relationship is the childhood fear that your parents will find out that you did something bad, or at least something they would think was bad. Could I possibly go home to my mother and father and introduce them to Vash, saying "This is the infamous Vash the Stampede, the father of my unborn child." Somehow, it didn't sound very good when I thought about it like that. And what would my brothers have to say when they found out what was going on between Vash and I? Perhaps the knowledge of his alleged past and his notoriety would be enough to keep them from trying to kill him, but somehow, I doubted that. Gavin and Aaron weren't the most forgiving men that I knew. They never had been. So I began to think that maybe…maybe I could keep everything from them. But I knew that wasn't the truth. If I pushed this thing any further, I was as good as caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

----------

Over the five days after I told Vash that we would be going to tell my parents all about us and the baby, I began to grow more and more worried as to what exactly I could possibly say to them. And _would_ my brothers be there? I knew that they would not be happy to meet Vash, and they would be less than excited to hear the news about us. My mother…she might be happy since I was pretty sure she had an unending desire for me to get married and have lots of babies, but I also suspected she would be less than pleased about the fact that I hadn't told her more about Vash _before_ we had conceived a child together. My father would either be very confused or somewhat surprised. He was generally a very laidback man, and he'd never reacted strongly to _any_ news. I remembered once when Gavin had been arrested after a bar fight and my father had simply shrugged at the news and said "that kind of thing happens" while my mother had been ranting about how he was doomed to the life of a criminal now.

So one night, I decided that we really needed to have some predetermined course of action as far as the explanation and introduction went. The problem was, just how do you approach your lover and tell him that you feel unable to introduce him to your parents because of his criminal past without hurting his feelings? I supposed that I would just have to try my best. After all, despite our communication problems in the past, I really felt like things were getting a lot better between the two of us, and that if I only tried to tell him exactly how I felt while being as gentle as possible, things would work out. Also, I felt like the two of us had really worked on our compromising skills, so I felt that it wouldn't develop into some terrible argument, which was the last thing we needed at that point.

"Vash?" I spoke up the night before the dinner was supposed to occur. He had just climbed into bed beside me and was snuggling up against me when I decided that now was a good time to bring up the topic that had been troubling me.

"Mm hmm." He was behind me, kissing the back of my neck lazily to indicate that he was listening to me but would rather be going to sleep.

"I'm worried about tomorrow." That seemed like a good way to broach the subject. Nice and simple and to the point.

"I know, Meryl." Vash's voice was low, barely more than a whisper. "But you shouldn't worry. It'll be okay."

"Uh...yeah, I know." I don't know why, but the way he was rubbing my stomach softly made me blush deeply and distracted from my train of thought. He seemed to be utterly fascinated with my stomach ever since he found out what was inside of it. "I just...you know, I love you Vash."

"Yeah, I love you too." He confirmed, kissing the back of my neck again before he nuzzled against the crook of my shoulder. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah..." I knew he was right, but the fact of the matter was that we had to deal with the issue of his criminal identity before we decided to just introduce him to my parents and see where the chips would fall. "It's just...what do I tell my parents?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, kissing along the line of my shoulder. Apparently, he felt that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted with me if I was going to keep him awake.

"Well, you know that if I tell them you're Vash the Stampede, they'll know...who you are." I felt extremely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, but there was no way around it. "Can we really tell them? I mean...what if they want to turn you in or something?"

"Meryl, do you really think they'll turn me in?" Vash's voice was solemn now, utterly serious. If I answered in the affirmative, he would definitely believe me.

"I...don't know." I admitted. "My brothers will be mad. I don't know _what_ they'll do. My dad...he probably will just welcome you to the family. My mom...she'll throw a fit even if there's nothing...questionable about you. But...I don't think she'd turn you in if she honestly believes that we're in love. My brothers are the key here. If I can convince them that you aren't taking advantage of their little sister, I suppose there would be a chance that they'll let you off. But if they think that you're some evil, murdering terror from the moment they meet you, then you won't have a chance."

"I won't have a chance?" I could tell that Vash was teasing me now for insinuating that my brothers could actually take him down.

"You know what I mean." I rolled my eyes. "If they want to turn you in...I don't know what we'll do. We'll have to leave here." There was a long silence from the man behind me, punctuated by a hot kiss pressed to my shoulder blade.

"You mean...I'll have to leave." he clarified. "You're not the one with the bounty on your head, Mer."

"I know." I blushed again slightly. "But do you really think that I'd let you leave me? We're in this thing together now, Vash. I want us to stay together, and I won't give that up if it means that we have to be on the run and I have to give up what bit of a life I've managed to build myself here." I paused, turning in his arms to face him, burying my face in his scarred chest as I spoke the next words. "Vash, _you_ are my life now, and I won't give that up, not for anything."

A long silence greeted me, and I feared for a moment or two that I had said too much, and that Vash had finally decided I was far too obsessed with him, and he was going to call it quits and leave me. After a while, he began stroking long, slow circles on my back with his hands, and this relaxed me a bit. "Meryl, I've been meaning to ask you something, but I wanted to wait until I could afford...oh well."

"What is it?" I asked him tilting my head so that I could see his face. I always loved the way his eyes caught the smallest bits of light and seemed to almost glow in the dark room.

"Will you marry me?" His voice was soft, earnest, as though he expected me to turn him down on the spot or maybe even laugh at him. I couldn't say anything for some time, since I was so shocked and overjoyed at the sudden proposal. He wanted to _marry_ me? I admit that I had hoped that perhaps, now that I was pregnant, he might consider it, but I suppose that I never really thought that someone like Vash, such a beautiful, mysterious entity, would ever want to stay in one place for _that_ long. I suppose I must have stayed quiet for too long, because he shifted slightly and spoke up again. "I...I meant to get you a ring so I could ask properly...I've been saving up, but I just don't have enough for the one I want yet...so I know if you don't want..." I lunged up, capturing his lips with mine and effectively ending his explanation. When we broke, I could feel myself grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't have cared less what I looked like at the moment.

"Vash, I don't need a ring." I whispered into his ear, and I could feel as I pressed my cheek to his, the tears that were spilling down his face. I kissed the wet streaks and hugged him more closely to me. "I love you so much...I'll marry you Vash. Of course I will." He really started crying then, but it was due to his happiness, and I realized after a few moments of heated kisses that tears were streaking their way across my cheeks as well.

"I'll make you so happy, you'll see." Vash told me throatily as I worked to pull my nightgown off, lost in the passion and the joy of the moment.

"You already have." I told him before leaning in for more deep kisses and soft caresses. Somehow, as we made love in our bed, the night becoming deeper around us as we let the time pass us by, I suddenly could have cared less whether or not my parents approved. I didn't care if my brothers decided to turn him in and we had to spend the rest of our lives together on the run. If we were together, nothing else mattered. I loved Vash so much, I thought my heart would burst.

----------

"Do I look okay?" Vash was awfully nervous as we reached my parents' house the next day, smoothing the nice black dress shirt I had purchased the day before for the occasion every few minutes. I smiled up at him offering him a quick peck on the cheek before turning up the familiar old walkway with him hand in hand.

"You look great, Vash." I assured him. I didn't have to lie, of course, as he looked wonderful in the nice shirt and slacks that he'd eyed doubtfully that afternoon before hesitantly agreeing to wear whatever I "thought was best." I was wearing a dark blue dress, nothing very fancy, but enough to make my mom happy. I rarely wore dresses and skirts, and she was constantly nagging me to do so. I could tell from the way Vash kept eyeing me that he appreciated the simple cut dress a lot more than I did. I didn't like the way dresses fit me. They didn't seem very sensible, but if it would soften my mother up, I decided that it was well worth it. "Don't worry, everything will be fine." It seemed as though we'd been telling each other that a record number of times over the past week. I hoped it was true.

"You're right. Let's do this." He nodded bravely and I reached forward, knocking on the door of the house where I had grown up. Immediately, I could hear shuffling, and the muffled voice of my mother.

"I'm coming! Just a moment! Arnold, stay out of the kitchen!" she was just chastising my father as she opened the door, her eyes going from my dress to the man whose hand I was still holding firmly, as though for the courage needed to face her. "Meryl! Sweetie, I'm so glad you could make it! And you brought a _guest_!" This word was emphasized, and suddenly, I could hear people rushing to join my mother. I could barely hold the groan back as I recognized my two older brothers, Aaron and Gavin, already glaring daggers at poor Vash. I should have known that the _one _Friday I actually come to my mother's for dinner, they would be there as well. None of us were very regular in accepting her weekly invitation, but they went home more often than I did, I knew that much at least.

"Hey Merry." Aaron, the older of the two looked down at me with dark brown eyes shielded from view partially by his eternally messy black hair. I blushed slightly at the nickname, as it still managed to make me feel like a little girl. "Who's this?"

"Now, you two, let your sister in before you start on all that." my mother, a woman who was just as tiny as myself, still managed to push the two large men out of the way so that Vash and I could enter and I could take off my jacket. Vash still refused to buy a coat, and I was almost positive that the bag he kept under the bed contained his old red jacket, which he kept hidden away for obvious reasons. That was one thing he wanted to be able to keep from wearing ever again, if he could help it. Gavin took my coat, shooting a glare at Vash before offering me a smile which lit up his dark blue eyes. His hair was a sandy brown like our father's had been before it went grey, and it struck me how much he looked like a younger version of my father.

"Got a boyfriend now, Merry?" he asked as I mused on this idea, bringing another blush to my cheeks. Damn brothers, they knew how to embarrass me all too well. "I was starting to think that maybe you just didn't like anything that didn't involve a big fat stack of forms."

"Very funny." I had to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at Gavin. He always disapproved of how much time and effort I spent on my line of work, but he didn't even _know _about the dangerous missions I'd been sent on. I was pretty sure that if I ever _did_ tell my brothers about exactly what my job entailed, they'd force me into an early retirement. "Where's dad?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." the voice was still as I'd always remembered it, full of laughter and good humor. It was soon followed by the appearance of my father, who's eyes were still the same piercing blue they'd always been, but thick streaks of grey lined his head of hair, and deep creases lined his aging face. Somehow, it made me feel immeasurably older to see my parents aging. "Now what's this all about?"

"Meryl's brought a guest to dinner." My mother's voice could not have been more ecstatic had she been telling my father that they had won the lottery and would never have to worry about money for the rest of their lives. "Now, Meryl, why don't you introduce us to this nice young man?" she prompted me. She was practically bouncing on her heels, she was so excited. I suppose I wasn't entirely surprised at this, as she'd been nagging me to find a "nice boy to settle down with" nonstop for about ten years. At least it made me less frightened of what _her_ response would be. My brothers still looked like they wanted to hang him from the roof by his ankles.

Vash and I had already gone over what exactly we thought the best course of action would be, but now that my family was facing us expectantly, I found my tongue frozen, and all I could do was shoot Vash a pleading glance. His answer to this was to lace his fingers through mine and give me a reassuring smile. Easy for _him_ to be calm about it. He didn't have to say anything hard. "Mom, dad, Gavin, Aaron." I addressed them all noticing with some irritation that I had the insane urge to turn around and run out of the door and never come back. That wouldn't solve anything, and I knew it. I'd just have to be strong. "This is Vash." That's right, Meryl, ease them into it. No need to tell them everything all at once.

"Oh, Vash, it's nice to meet you!" My mother, of course, rushed forward to take his hand, shaking it eagerly as he was forced to let go of my own hand. "I'm Meryl's mother, but you may call me Ellen."

"It's nice to meet you, Ellen." Vash smiled that sweet, winning smile that I had so been hoping would soften up any resistance we encountered. My mother was still completely pleased with the idea that I'd brought a man home, so she obviously didn't need the smile, but my brothers still looked rather doubtful about it all. After my mother was finished with gushing over the handshake, my father took her place, a rather amused grin quirking his lips as he stuck his own hand out and shook Vash's in a friendly manner.

"I'm Arnold, Meryl's father." he greeted my lover, seeming to take this whole meeting entirely in stride. I had known father wouldn't be a problem, though. "It's nice to meet you, Vash."

"Mom said you were seeing some guy. Is this him?" Gavin asked me after my father was finished. Aaron was still just glaring at Vash, who, to his credit, didn't seem the slightest bit disturbed by their open hostility.

"Yes, Vash and I have been living together for quite some time now." I told Gavin forcefully, tilting my head to one side. "I've been meaning to bring him over for all of you to meet...I just got a bit busy."

"I'll bet." Aaron snorted slightly, giving Vash a critical once-over. "He looks like he takes a lot of work."

"Aaron, wouldn't you like to introduce yourself to Vash?" My mother's tone would have sounded perfectly normal to the casual observer, but my brothers could easily recognize that she was about ten seconds from slapping them both upside the head, no matter how much taller than her they were.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Meryl's older brother." Aaron offered his hand as though he was being forced to be polite.

"Meryl was right about you, Aaron." Vash told him in a perfectly cheerful tone. "You look just like your father, but you act nothing like him from what I've seen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aaron, of course, took this as some sort of an insult, but I think that it was all for the best, since my mother then actually _did_ smack him upside the head, and I have to say that I think he deserved it.

"I apologize for the boys. They're rather...protective of their baby sister." I hated it when my mom called me a baby in any way. It was so utterly demeaning, whether she meant it to be or not.

"Now that everyone's met everyone, why don't we eat? Is dinner ready, Ellen?" I loved my father so much at that moment. He always knew how to diffuse something dangerous before it became too much.

"Oh! Yes, let's eat!" My mother bustled into the kitchen and the rest of us followed, turning into the dining room where she was just setting out the last of the food. As she pulled up an extra chair for Vash, we all took our places around the table. Mom was at one end with my father at the other, and even though Aaron made a noble effort to sit next to _me_ to separate Vash and I, my lover was too fast for him and my brothers sat across from the two of us. As soon as we sat down, Vash leaned over to offer me a quick peck on the cheek, and I was stunned at the bravery he was showing in front of my brothers. Maybe everything _would_ work out.

"So then, Vash." My mother began the conversation as we passed food around. "What was your last name, then?"

"Oh...um, he doesn't really...that is..." why had I not considered this before? Obviously, they would want to know what his last name was! How stupid could I possibly be? "Vash...he doesn't really have a surname."

"Oh?" My mother took that surprisingly well. "Are you an orphan, dear?" she turned him a sympathetic smile.

"Something like that." He confirmed, smiling at me and grabbing my hand under the table. Things were going rather well.

"That must be terrible! But you seem to have turned out well enough. Now then, what do you do for a living?" my mother asked him, still all smiles.

"Vash used to be a sort of...jack of all trades." I told my mother. Well, that wasn't _exactly_ a lie. "But his work made him move around a lot, so when he decided to stay with me, he was forced to find something else to do. He's been working at a little diner lately, but I've told him he doesn't need to have a job at all, really. I make plenty, and he does all the housework, so I feel like that arrangement is just fine."

"That's a bit of an ongoing issue between us, I'm afraid." Vash smiled warmly at my family. "I wish I could make enough money so that she wouldn't have to work so hard, but she claims that I don't need to work at all. Right now we're compromising."

"You're dating a waiter?" Gavin snorted incredulously. "What a loser."

"Gavin, I hardly think that someone who lived in their parents' basement for two years without a job just because they were lazy has call to judge others on their employment decisions." I told him sharply.

"Now, now, you two." my mother shook her head apologetically at Vash. "All three of them bicker nonstop if you let them. It's always _something_ between them. Did you have any brothers or sisters, Vash?"

"I...had a brother." Vash's voice cracked on that one and I dropped my fork in shock. Why had I not considered that my parents might ask about his family. How stupid could I be?

"Vash doesn't like to talk about his family." I spoke up immediately. "It's a bit of a sad story and it's still hard for him."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, dear." My mother looked aghast at her own curiosity. "I had no idea! I didn't mean to pry."

"Don't worry about it." he smiled at her, but it was a little shaky. I found his hand again and gave it a squeeze. We would get through this together, I was sure.

"So, why are you just now bringing him home, Merry?" Aaron wanted to know. "Something's up, isn't it?" Gavin and him redoubled their campaign to burn holes through Vash with their eyes.

"Actually," I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth, looking at Vash for a moment before continuing. "Vash and I plan to get married."

"What?" Aaron was aghast.

"Already?" Gavin pounded the table with his fist. "We've only met him once!"

"Oh! That's so lovely!" My mother was, of course, completely ecstatic. "How long have you been together now?"

"Well, I've known him for a few years, but we've only just been together for six months." I blushed slightly before continuing. "I think I've loved him for most of the time I've known him, though."

"Me too." Vash leaned over and kissed my forehead softly.

"That's not all." I decided that at least with dad seeming neutral and mom excited, I might as well finish it all off. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" Aaron repeated.

"Is it _his_?" Gavin looked ready to kill.

"Oh! Sweetheart! Oh, give me a hug!" my mother was practically squealing with delight, tears pouring down her face as she jumped up and came over to my seat, arms outstretched. I smiled, hugging her and feeling glad that she was so pleased. If she was on my side, I was positive that she could convince the boys to leave Vash alone. Father looked a bit surprised, but he was still smiling, so I figured that everything was, after all, going to be okay. My mother let go of me, only to attack Vash with her sobbing tight hugs. "I've wanted...for so long! And then I thought when Aaron had that nice girlfriend, but they never wanted to have any children, and now...all of the sudden! I'm going to be a grandmother!"

"What are you hoping for?" my father asked. Vash and I looked at each other, surprised that we hadn't even considered the gender of our child yet.

"It doesn't matter." we spoke at the same time, laughing slightly as my mom returned to her seat, still looking rather teary-eyed.

"It'll be so adorable, won't it, Arnold?" my mother was in a dreamlike state that frightened me just a bit. "I can hardly wait to see it."

"I hope it doesn't look like him." Aaron offered. Gavin was trembling with fury, but Aaron looked rather resigned to his fate as unwilling uncle and brother-in-law. "Fucking ugly baby."

"Aaron Mitchell Stryfe!" my mother was immediately upon him like an angry avenger. "That is quite enough from you! Gavin, if you even _think _of hurting _anyone_ at this table, I will personally take you over my knee and spank you! Don't try to tell me you're too old for that, either!"

"Sorry mom." they both answered, blushing and suddenly looking about twenty years younger, like sheepish teenagers who'd been caught misbehaving.

It might have not been everything I could have hoped for, but it was more than enough for me. As Vash and I left that night amid tearful pleas from my mother to return as soon as possible and ill-concealed glares from my brothers, I felt as though my world, so in danger of collapsing beneath me for the past month or so, had finally been set right. I was in love and I was truly content with my lot in life.

*****

The End (Of Part 10, That Is)


	11. Flight

Okay, now here's something interesting.  After posting the last chapter, I received many reviews commenting on the behavior of Meryl's brothers and the interaction between Vash and the brothers.  The interesting part of this is that no one seems to agree on anything here.  I currently have…two reviewers that thought they got along too well with Vash and want them to fight it out, six reviewers that thought I did a good job of making brothers protective and mean to Vash, one person thought the brothers were unrealistically mean and overprotective, and four reviewers are just angry at the brothers comments and want them to get their asses kicked.  So how's an author supposed to make everyone happy?  I hope this gives you all an idea of why every review you give me doesn't seem to result in me changing things to go with your suggestions, because for every reviewer that says something like "Vash is too nice here" I get a review that says "Vash is too mean here" and another that says he's perfect.  I haven't actually gotten people telling me he's too mean or nice…but yeah, that's an example for you.  So I figure if I get mixed reviews on a certain topic, that means I'm doing a good job.  And to the one person that thought that they were just unrealistically mean, I would like to say that I have three brothers, and I based Aaron and Gavin on how _they treat guys _I_ bring home, whether they think I like the guy or not.  Also…one person said that the ugly baby comment sounded racist…which would make sense if race were an issue here, but as it isn't…yeah, that comment made no sense to me.  Also, even though we, the readers (and writer) know that Vash isn't human, the brothers would have no way of knowing that, so yeah, that really made no sense to me.  And to the __one reviewer who is _still_ nagging me about the coat, gun, and glasses, don't make me kick you.  I will.  And Ashley's just my friend, we were joking around, and we wanted to see if anyone would notice that last intro._

As a special note, I'd like to thank two people.  First, Lady Killarri for pointing out a stupid mistake I made because I'm a dork so that I could fix it.  Problem solved!  And second, I'd like to thank Midnight Star for an irresistibly cute idea.  Look, I'm doing it!

*****

Take My Hand

Part 11

*****

Do you remember how much faith you had as a child?  The way you'd believe anything your parents told you based simply on the fact that they were your parents and why _shouldn't_ you believe them?  And so you believed them when they told you about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.  But as you start to grow older and you learn more about the world, you start to have doubts about these stories that went so long without being questioned.  And then, there's the inevitable disillusionment when you discover that all this time, you were being fed hopeful dreams and myths, lies that can only exist in the carefree world of unquestioning childish naiveté.

That's a lot what it's like to be in love, except instead of having others lie to you, you start to lie to yourself.  You tell yourself that everything will always work out easily as long as you're in love.  You tell yourself that you'll always be happy, and that all your problems will dissolve into nothingness.  You tell yourself that your outlaw fiancé will never be recognized, and you'll never have to give up your comfortable life to keep him with you.  You tell yourself that life, while sometimes unfair, would never do anything adverse to a couple in love and expecting their first child in only a month.

You tell yourself all of these things, but can they all stand the test of time?  I should have known that my complacence would never last long, but I was so happy, so euphoric in the fact that my parents accepted Vash and that after a month of open hostility, my brothers had toned down their behavior to cautious acceptance, and then finally to an uneasy friendship…I should have known it couldn't always be so perfect.  But I was eventually disillusioned, as we all must be in times of happiness that seem so great you begin to think that they'll never end.

----------

"No…no, I'm fine." I spoke into the phone as I laid on the couch, my head propped atop a cushion and my feet barely visible past the barrier of my bulging stomach.  My mother had claimed that her own pregnancies hadn't been as dramatic as mine was, but I think that I am a bit smaller than she is, so the stomach would of course look even more ridiculously huge on me.  "No, really mom…it's okay…no, we have plenty of…well, that does sound pretty good." I was going through my daily phone call with my mother.  In the past, I usually only called her two or three times a month, but she was now calling_ me_ once a day.  At first, after I had brought Vash home for the first time, she had upped the frequency of phone calls to once a week, and then it was two or three times a week, and by the time I had finally told Bernadelli that I would be leaving until my condition returned to normal, she started calling me every day.  Apparently, she claimed that I would need her help as I had never been pregnant before and she had been through it three times, but I think she was just so excited about the baby that she took every chance she had to talk with me about it.  Recently, however, her focus had shifted from discussing the cuteness of babies and how mine and Vash's might look to trying to become my nursemaid.  Every day, she would offer to come over, do all the chores and various other tasks, bring me food, go out and buy me things that I "needed" and generally pamper me so that I never had to get up.  I would be lying if I said the prospect of not having to stand up wasn't tempting, as my stomach seemed to weigh as much as the rest of me itself, and my back was constantly sore and my feet ached and were swollen, but I refused to become dependent on my mother.  At that moment, she had just offered to bring me some apple pie that she'd just made, knowing that it was one of my favorite desserts.

"What's going on?" Millie's voice came from the kitchen, and it was soon followed by her head peeking around the corner.  Much like my mother, Millie seemed to think I was entirely unable of caring for myself, and she came over almost every day to make me lunch.  In addition to my mother's inevitable visits and Millie's daily check-in, my brothers had taken it in turns to come over at about the time that Vash was getting off work to "help with dinner" which was code for "sit in the kitchen and harass Vash and then eat more food than anyone else at dinner."  It had gotten a lot less hostile lately, so I was okay with it.  At least they all seemed to get along now, if only for my sake.  I was sure that my apartment had never seen so much traffic since I had first moved in.

"My mom's made apple pie." I told her after saying goodbye to the older woman on the phone and hanging up.  "She's bringing some over."

"Oh!  I love your mother's cooking!" Millie clapped her hands before disappearing back into the kitchen.  "She's really excited about the baby, isn't she?" I could hear the slight sad note in her voice, and I knew that she was perhaps thinking of her own family again, thinking of what they might have said if she had brought Wolfwood home with her…if she had been engaged to him, if she had been pregnant with his child.  I licked my lips and decided that I should tell her what Vash and I had discussed only two nights ago.

"You know…we decided on a name." I called out, trying to sound as casual as possible.  Millie reappeared only a few moments later, carrying a plate stacked up with all the things she knew I'd been craving lately.  I took the peanut butter and pickle sandwich and began eating it, feeling just as ravenous as I had been for the past few months.

"Really?" Millie's eyes lit up and she bit into the apple from her own lunch.  "Boy and girl names?  Cause you know, you can't be sure what it might be."

"Yeah, we thought of that." I smiled at her as I continued munching on my sandwich.  "Did you want to hear what we came up with?"

"Sure!" Millie was such an amazing friend.  She had been depressed about her own tragic love life only a few moments before, but now you couldn't tell that she felt anything other than excitement for my own happy little family.

"Well, we thought that if it was a girl, we could name her Rem, you know, after Vash's adopted mother?" I began.  Millie clasped her hands together, almost smashing the leftover apple.

"That's so sweet!  It's perfect!" Millie practically squealed.  "What about if it's a boy?"

"Well, if it's a boy we were going to name him Nicholas.  If…you think that's okay." I amended the statement, but I shouldn't have worried.  Millie looked at me with her lower lip trembling for a few moments before simply bursting into tears and nearly knocking my lunch off the table as she lunged forward to hug me tightly.

"Oh!  You guys…it's just…that means so much…I'm sure that he would have loved it."  She planted a big kiss on my forehead, pulling back and wiping at her tear-streaked face as she continued to cry slightly.  "Thank you…so much."

"It's nothing.  I couldn't have come up with a name I'd rather give my son." I told her warmly.  She was still sniffling and wiping at her eyes when my mother arrived only a few moments after that.

"Hello!  I brought a few extra…oh, Millie, dear, are you alright?" My mother entered, arms loaded with groceries, which she promptly dropped on the coffee table when she saw the state that my friend was in.

"Oh…I'm fine, Ellen, I was just talking with Meryl about naming the baby." Millie wiped up the last of her tears before picking up one of the big bags and bustling into the kitchen with it.

"Did you guys pick names then?" my mother came over, plumping the pillow under my head and brushing a cool hand over my forehead. 

"Yeah.  We're going to name it Rem if it's a girl and Nicholas if it's a boy." I told her.  "After his deceased adopted mother and an old friend of ours who died."

"Oh…did Millie know him?" my mother asked, still looking concerned at seeing Millie cry.  I didn't know why, really.  Millie cried as often as Vash.

"They were kind of together but…" I trailed off as Millie came back in to get the other large bag of groceries.

"Oh, Millie, dear, let me help with that.  I brought it over, after all." My mother chased my friend off into the kitchen and I sighed, unable to repress a slight smile.  Life was good.  I used to think that I enjoyed my solitude, but now that I was surrounded in people I cared about, I couldn't see myself living any other way.  Though I sometimes did wish that Vash and I were given a bit more privacy…

"Meryl, sweetie, finish your lunch!  We're going to put the groceries away and then bring you a slice of pie!" my mother called from the kitchen.  I rolled my eyes and with no small effort, maneuvered myself so I was sitting up, leaning forward in an attempt to not drop the crumbs of my crackers covered in cream cheese, bacon bits, and olives all over the bulge of my stomach.  Eventually, I just gave up and set the plate on my stomach so I could eat over it easier.  I was just finishing, standing up to brush off the crumbs, when my mother came back in with a plate of pie, her smile immediately turning into a disapproving glare.

"Sit right back down!  What are you doing!" she set the pie down and then shoved me back into the couch, looking as though she blamed the fact that I'd stood up on her own negligence.

"I was just getting the crumbs off mom!  I'm gonna get bedsores if you force me to lay in one place all the time." I grumbled as Millie reentered, carrying her own slice of pie and looking very pleased with herself.  At that moment, I heard the front door slam open, and before I had time to do more than widen my eyes in shock, Vash had dashed in, panic in his eyes as he saw us all.  I could tell that he had been running, and stomach or not, I was immediately on my feet.

"Meryl!  No!" my mother protested, but I managed to brush her off as Vash ran up to me hugging me so tightly he nearly lifted me off the ground.  "Vash, are you all right, dear?"

"What is it?" I asked him as I noticed the emotions swirling through his eyes.  There were so many that I had no idea what he was feeling at the moment.

"Two bounty hunters…down at the diner…they know who I am." He told me as my mother's eyes went wide.  They did not yet know that Vash was the infamous Vash the Stampede.  Many people didn't think he really existed, after all.  "They were going to wait until I left to catch me, but I heard them talking.  I slipped out the back, but it won't be long before they figure it out."

"They found you?" Millie's voice was shrill with alarm.

"What's going on?  Bounty hunters?  Why would they want Vash?" my mother was at an utter loss.

"We have to go, don't we?" I asked him, my voice breathless with the excitement and anxiety of it all.  So this was it, then.  We were on the run.

"You don't have to go.  I could come back for you later." He told me urgently, but I shook my head.

"In what, five years?  You think I'd wait that long?" I pressed a kiss to his chin, unable to stretch up further.  "You knew I was coming with you or you wouldn't have come back here in the first place.  Just let me get a few things…"

"There's no time.  Get what you need and have Millie get you the rest later.  We have to disappear." Vash told me, kissing my lips quickly before rushing to the bedroom to get whatever _he deemed necessary._

"Mom, Millie, I've got to go now.  I'll be in touch with you but—" my mother cut me off, her features streaked with more panic than I'd ever seen in her before.

"Meryl, what is going on here?  You've got to go where?  What's this all about?  Why are bounty hunters after Vash?" my mom fired off question after question.

"Mom, Vash is Vash the Stampede." I answered simply before turning to get my traveling cloak and derringers out of the back of the hallway closet.

"Vash the Stampede?  The humanoid typhoon?" my mother sounded like she might faint.

"He's a very nice man, really." Millie explained to her as he reappeared wearing a cloak that made him look like an inconsequential vagabond.  Trust Vash to always be prepared.  "And he'd never hurt a fly!  We met him long ago and you know, he's nothing like a criminal at all.  Those charges against him are completely unjustified."

"Maybe a little justified." I grinned at my fiancé ruefully and he offered me a smile in return before getting my shoes to help me put them on.

"I got some clothes and things in a bag by the bedroom door." He told me as I let him slip both shoes on, buttoning up the sides easily around my swollen feet.  "Grab what you need, we need to go."

"Okay, why don't you say goodbye to mom and Millie." I waved to the two women in the living room.

"Vash…the Stampede?  But…he's so sweet and polite." My mother looked like she didn't know whether she wanted to scream or cry.  Millie was patting her shoulder helpfully.

"It's okay, Ellen, we need to be strong for them now.  Don't think about what you've heard, think of what you _know_.  Do you really think Vash is bad?" Millie asked her.

"I'll be seeing you two later." I could hear them as I tossed a few things into the bag and carried it out to the living room.  Vash was hugging Millie and just turning to hug my mother when I came back.

"Yeah, we'll be in touch.  I'll have you drop a few things off at the old bar outside of Winston in a few days, okay Millie?" I hugged her, letting her press a kiss to my forehead before she let me go, her eyes glistening with tears, but a smile still on her face.

"He's an outlaw, Meryl?" my mother seemed a bit confused as I turned to hug her after Vash had let her go and picked up the bag.

"Yes, mother, but he's a good man.  Better than any other that I've known, and I love him."  I told her, kissing her cheek.  "I'll be in touch, but I can't tell you where I'm at.  We're on the run, you know."  I told her cheerfully as she began to cry.  I took Vash's hand and we walked out the door, never looking back.  After all, he was my home, and as long as I was with him, I was happy.  I know I should have been scared for myself, for my baby, for Vash, but all I knew was that we were doing what we had to to stay as one family, and that was all that mattered to me.

*****

The End (Of Part 11, That Is)


	12. Bath

Okay, I'm sorry, this is just too damn funny to _not _share with you guys, even though a lot of you may actually be upset…but yeah.  Here goes.  See, my imouto-chan Jade sits here and reads reviews with me a lot, and she of course hears all my gripes about things like reviews that contradict each other or ask me weird ass questions.  And of course, there's that one freaking reviewer who is STILL nagging me about the freaking coat and glasses and gun…gar.  Anyway, so here's her review for the last chapter, meant as a total joke:

So, how could anyone recognize Vash? That doesn't make sense. I think that the brothers were really non appearing in this chapter, I think you should work on that. It's pretty unbelievable. Oh and Vash is too nice. Meryl's stomach is too big, Millie's too Millie, and Wolfwood is too dead. I mean I love this story but I just have to tell you these things. Where's Vash's coat and his sunglasses? And where are his headphones? Vash is too mean. I think that you wrote Kuro-neko-sama pretty weird in this chapter. I mean, would he REALLY act like this? I think his character is underdeveloped. Oh and Vash is perfect!   
  
I'm a smartass :p

Okay, so I know that not all of you give me something like that, but it made me laugh, and I felt a lot less pissy about the reviews that were being so weird and random when I read it.  So thanks to Jade for lightening my mood when I was starting to think I would kill the next person who added a new criticism about the brothers.  Don't tell me my original characters are out of character, because really, how would you know?  Speaking of which…Empress Galaxia?  Could you please introduce me to these men you apparently know who grow up and act their age by the time they're in their thirties?  Because…I seem to be stuck on meeting all the ones that still act like they're five, so maybe I'm just looking in the wrong places.  Obviously, I know nothing of men, as that is what seems to be the overwhelming opinion of the readers who keep telling me how to write them.  Okay, you guys write the story and I'll take a break.  It'd be nice not to have to deal with all the bullshit. ^_^

*****

Take My Hand

Part 12

*****

It's strange how some of the most bizarre activities can easily become routine for you if you're given the right level of comfort and familiarity to ease you into them.  I think that perhaps if I wasn't already familiar with the idea of wandering from town to town after Vash in my earlier years with him, I might not have taken the whole idea of going on the run as simply another wrinkle to be ironed out of my daily schedule.  I know it would have been strange for me if I didn't have everything I needed right there with me, if I wasn't receiving regular correspondence from my family and Millie, who served to make it all seem that much more normal.  It was almost as if we were on an extended holiday, rather than out on the run from bounty hunters.

You might think that the fact that I was in an advanced state of pregnancy made it even more difficult, but as it was, Vash showed me every concern and made sure I rarely had to walk more than a few steps from the back of transport animal to the door of an inn, and I was actually feeling almost pampered by his constant attentions and endless questions to be sure that I was feeling well.  After a week, we had developed a well worn routine that seemed almost as concrete as the schedule I had set for myself at home.  It's odd how, given the right conditions, the human spirit can thrive anywhere, isn't it?

----------

"Gavin and Aaron are still upset, and they're not talking about you and Vash right now." I read from the letter we'd just picked up at the local bar.  Millie had been following us pretty closely and keeping them in touch with my family.  "Millie says that you two are doing just fine, and that I shouldn't be concerned, but you know that I can't help but worry for you and the baby.  I hope that Vash is taking good care of you and that I will have a chance to see you again soon.  Millie told me that you plan to settle down in a small town after the baby is born and lay low for a while.  I was wondering if I could come see you then, or would it be bad for me to visit while you're in hiding?  I don't really know the rules about this sort of thing.  Your father wishes you both the best of luck, and you have all my love.  Hoping to see you soon, mom."  I set the letter down.  "Well, that was sweet of her.  She's dealing with this pretty well, don't you think?" I asked the man who was guiding the animal that carried me along it's way to the nearby inn.

"She was upset when she first found out, but she seems to be pretty okay with it now." Vash agreed.  "That's how parents are supposed to be, I think.  They worry about their children and they try to protect them from the world, but when there's no way to protect them, they just have to stand behind them and offer their support."

"I guess so…is that the inn?" I pointed to the building that we were close to reaching with a hanging sign in front that had faded letters on it.  "I'm ready to go to bed."

"Not before you have some dinner." Vash told me, and I smiled down at him.  I was saddle-sore and my back ached, but I wasn't about to tell Vash that.  He seemed to think that anything that happened to me was a reflection of his incompetence and inability to properly protect me from everything possible, so I tended to keep petty complaints like that to myself.  It didn't do much good, though.  As he helped me get off the strange animal that had been carrying me for the past three days after we had traded the old one in for a new one, he could see the way I moved with stiff little movements, showing how much pain I was in.  "Don't worry, love.  You'll be able to lay down soon." He kissed my temple before leading me into the inn and paying the innkeeper for a room.  After leading me up, he went back down for our scant luggage and returned to me where I already lay on the bed, dozing lightly.  He looked down at me, and I could tell he was close to crying.

"I'm fine." I told him reassuringly.  I really was, and it hurt to know that he had to worry so much about me.  "I'm just tired, that's all."

"I'll be right back with some food." Vash kissed my forehead and disappeared again.  When he returned, I was deciding that pregnant bellies made it impossible to find a comfortable spot to lay on, especially when my whole back felt like it was on fire from the strain of travel.  "Meryl?  Are you hungry?" I smiled up at him, holding two plates and scooted up against the headboard, taking my own dinner and devouring it quickly.  It seemed that I was more and more hungry these days, but I supposed that it made sense, as I was eating for two.

"This stupid thing." I blushed slightly as I was unable to get up without some effort.  Vash set his plate down and helped me to the bathroom.  It was so embarrassing, not being able to take care of myself at all, it seemed.  "I can't stand being like this." I told him after I'd finished and he was helping me back to the bed.

"Don't say that." He had finished his dinner and he took my own clean plate away, kissing my cheeks in turn and then my nose.  "I only wish I could take better care of you."

"I'm fine." I told him, smiling slightly.  It was rough traveling in my condition, but I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.  "As long as you're with me, I'll always be just fine."

"Your back hurts." He climbed on the bed beside me and nudged at me until I rolled on my side so he could massage my back as he did every night.  "I'm sorry." He pressed kisses along my neck, down my shoulders and along the line of my spine.

"Don't be." I reached back for him and he twined his fingers through mine.  I pulled him forward, until he was laying flush against me, his lips still tracing the line of my shoulder that was exposed easily by the neck of the large shirt I wore to let my stomach have the space it demanded.  "You spoil me, you know." I told him, pulling the hand down to my stomach where we both rested our palms.

"I love this." He whispered in my ear, his breath tickling against the little hairs that were around his mouth.  "Can you feel it?" he asked, his voice full of wonder at the occasional movement that stirred against our hands.

"I can feel it all day, honey." I assured him.  "You always make it seem magical, though." I turned my head, catching his lips with my own.  At times…I felt guilty knowing that I was in no condition for sex, and that Vash had gone almost five months without making love to me.  I know how much he enjoyed it, and no matter how many times he assured me that it didn't bother him at all, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was growing impatient for the pregnancy to end.  And yet, he always seemed to think it was the most amazing part of me that he'd discovered yet, and sometimes when we walked from one town to the next, he would rest his ear against my stomach, excitedly telling me about all the noises he could hear inside.  I think that Vash was probably more excited about the baby than anyone else, and I think that really helped assuage my fears that he'd get sick of the lack of sex, or tire of seeing me grow fatter and fatter with each day.

"It is magical." Vash kissed right below my ear.  "It's the best thing I've ever seen."  We cuddled for a bit longer before he pulled back to finish rubbing my back before he moved down to rub the soreness out of my thighs from being in the saddle all day.  I never complained of aches, but he always seemed to know, always wanted to help me, to do everything he could to make it easier.

Vash made it more than easy.  Vash made being pregnant one of the happiest times of my life.  I doubt that at any other time had I been so coddled and spoiled, so cared for, so completely loved.  I felt as though everything in the world was exactly as it should be, and never mind the fact that we were on the run and we had no place to stay for any length of time.  Never mind the fact that if we were found, I knew it would end in some sort of fight that I was in no way equipped to handle at that point in time.  Never mind any of that, because for all intents and purposes, we were just a happy engaged couple expecting their first child and traveling at a leisurely pace across the countryside.

"I love you." I managed the words before I fell asleep with Vash still kneading at my flesh diligently.  He looked up from my right thigh, his eyes glowing happily and his smile sincere.

"I love you too." He assured me.  "Go to sleep now."

Who was I to argue with such sound advice?

----------

"Aren't your feet sore?" I asked Vash as he sat at the foot of our newest bed, unbuckling his complicated boots.  "You walk all day, and it's been nearly three weeks.  They must be aching."

"I'm fine, Meryl." He assured me.  "Turn over so I can rub your back." He climbed up beside me, stopping to plant a kiss on my huge stomach.

"If you rub my back, I should get to rub your feet." I told him firmly.

"You don't want to rub my feet." He grimaced.  "They stink."

"They do not.  You're making things up." I stuck my tongue out, giggling.  "I have an idea, then."

"What's that?" he asked, working at my neck and shoulders with skilled hands.

"I'll wash them, and then I'll rub them for you." I told him, pleased with myself.

"I'm not going to make you wash my feet." Vash shot it down immediately.

"No, we could take a bath together." I explained further, set in my new great idea.  "And I can rub your feet."

"Meryl, you don't have to rub my feet.  They're really fine." He assured me.

"You rub my back _and my legs every night.  I should get to rub your feet." I grumbled good-naturedly.  "Okay, new plan.  You can rub my feet if I can rub yours."_

"Your feet are bothering you?" he was immediately so worried that he'd been neglecting me that I actually burst into giggles.

"No, not since I barely ever walk, but if it means you'll agree, sure, they're in agony." I teased him.  Seeing that I obviously wasn't about to give up on this idea, he nibbled at my ear and then climbed up over me before standing up.

"Okay then, smartass." He agreed, helping me up and guiding me to the bathroom.  "You know, I don't see why you're making such a big deal about this." He set me to undressing while he ran the bath water.

"Well…I never do anything for you anymore." I told him, struggling out of my clothing, glad that Vash had already taken off my socks and shoes.  Those were the most difficult to get to with my stomach in the way as it was.  "And also…I mean, I know you say that you don't care at all, but we haven't had sex for a long time, so I figured that anything I could do…you know, it's fine."

"Meryl, you don't _have to do things for me.  And I really don't mind at all, Meryl." Vash told me, having just pulled his shirt off.  "I'd much rather see you like this than anything else." He reached forward, stroking my swollen stomach possessively as he leaned in to kiss my forehead._

"Yeah, sure.  You know, I know that you're a total sex-fiend, so you don't have to lie about it." I teased him.  "Really, are you honestly going to tell me that you're not ready for me to be done with this?"

"Well…I guess so, but you know, it's totally worth it." He told me warmly before stepping back to take off the rest of his clothes.  I moved past him, stepping into the bath, careful not to lose my balance as I moved over the rim of the tub and let myself sink into the steaming water.

"Mmm, this may just be my best idea ever." I sighed happily as the hot water soaked into my weary flesh, relieving the tension of the day.  I let my eyes sink shut as he climbed into the bath across from me.  "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Mmm." Vash assented, obviously feeling about as blissful as I was.  I felt his legs snake up over the top of mine as he stretched out more fully.  Vash was so much taller than me that his feet hit the edge while his knees were still bent up above the surface of the water.  "You're so tiny." He teased, reaching under the water to tickle my toes that didn't even make it all the way to his end of the tub.

"Tiny?  Look at this." I teased back, patting my bulging stomach that poked out of the water at the top.  "This thing could take you out."

"Don't use my baby as a weapon!" he protested, mock terror on his face as I reached for the soap, washing off the day's dust from my skin.  "Need help?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.  I couldn't help but giggle at the offer.  I mean, it was so utterly ridiculous for my fiancé to try and use pick up lines on me while we were bathing together and I was pregnant with _his_ child, but at the same time, it was hilarious.

"Sex-fiend, just like I said." I told him, finishing with the soap and leaning forward to hand it off.  I reached under the water and brought his right foot over so that I could begin rubbing it, just running my fingers over the hardened bottoms and up the sides at first.  "So, it was a good idea, wasn't it?" I emphasized my point by starting to rub at the knots of flesh I had found on my first feel of his foot.  Vash answered with a noise that sounded close to the noise he made whenever he hit orgasm.  I giggled, thinking he was just messing with me as he slumped back in the tub.

"Meryl…that feels really good." He finally spoke after a few moments of continued noises.  I smiled, pleased that I was doing a good job at it.  I used to rub my mom's feet for her sometimes when I felt like she was under appreciated and over worked…which was actually pretty often.  Staying at home with her and seeing how much she did, I really appreciated her and tried to show her as often as I could.  It made me feel bad that I'd sort of fallen out of touch with her when I left home, but at least now we were closer than ever.  "Seriously…god."

"I thought you said your feet didn't hurt?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow teasingly.  "But when I squeeze right _here…it feels like they've been aching for ages.  Shame on you, Vash."_

"Yeah…shame." His eyes were drooping closed, and I wondered if maybe he'd fall asleep in the tub.  It would be good for him to catch a little extra rest after all he'd gone through for me.  I finished his right foot and moved onto the left as he began to make soft noises halfway between mewls and snores.  It was utterly adorable, and I was enjoying myself thoroughly, but I knew it would be bad to stay in the tub until the water turned cold, so I reached forward, shaking his shoulders gently.  I knew by then that it wasn't hard to wake Vash up, as he never slept very deeply due to all his years on the run, so I wasn't surprised when his eyes popped open almost immediately.

"Time for bed, sleepy-head." I teased him, wriggling a bit to point out that his legs were in the way of my bathtub escape.  He smiled at me dopily and blinked a few times.

"Wasn't I supposed to do your feet?" he asked drowsily.  I winked at him and shoved him to point out that I was ready to get out of the bath.  

"I'll get pruny if we stay in here.  Let's go to bed, alright?" I told him, and this time he stood slowly, getting out of the tub still dripping wet and pulling the plug out of the bottom before helping me up and out of the tub.  "We're getting the floor wet." I told him.

"Not our floor." He pointed out, kissing me once on the mouth before grabbing a towel and drying me gently.  He wrapped it around me and tucked it in, patting my bottom playfully.  "I'll be out soon as I'm dried." He told me, his eyes twinkling happily.

"Okay, Vash." I smiled up at him, likely looking as dopey as he had only moments before, and then making my way back out and over to the bed without much difficulty.  Reaching my destination, I didn't bother with looking for a nightgown, only dropping my towel and climbing into the bed, feeling completely relaxed and ready for a long night's sleep.  Only moments later, the bed shifted as Vash climbed in behind me, pressing kisses all along the line of my neck before reaching my ear.

"Night, love." He told me, and I sighed happily, feeling truly content.

"Night, love." I returned the words before letting my eyes fall shut.  Life on the run was just like life at home, in it's own way.  At least this way Vash and I had more privacy.

*****

The End (Of Part 12, That Is)


	13. Home

Never has anything I written inspired such an impassioned response as did the rant I wrote just the other day.  What you guys read was actually the edited version, so it's surprising that I still got such a range of emotional replies, varying from indignant and angry to pitying and sympathetic.  I actually still _did receive a few of those happy, carefree reviews, but I'm not sure that those people read the rant.  Kinda funny if you think about it.  Anyway, I realize that many of you were upset by what I had to say, but the fact of the matter is that I thought you would appreciate my honesty and take more from that then if I was just indulgent and apathetic, as that is what many of __you have been telling me for as long as I've been on ff.net…about three and a half years now.  I never thought that fanfiction was very important to any of you, as it is really not that important to me.  It's just a fun little thing to do when I feel like it, and though it can be difficult at times, I was more than ready to put this fic to pasture and move on.  After all, I __am writing other things that do continue to make me happy, so it's not as though I was swearing fanfiction off forever, which I think a couple of you assumed.  Most of the angry responses told me that I was very immature, and I needed to get used to honest reader response.  I __am used to honest reader response, and I was shocked that no one seemed to notice that what I was _trying_ to say was that the biggest flaw of this story, the glaring error that should be noticeable to at least a portion of you, has yet to be called to my attention by the readers.  I was disappointed, not because people were flaming me, but because they __weren't.  No one, even once, said in even a friendly tone "hey, teresa, this story's cute and all but…where's the plot?  Nothing's happening."  I wanted honesty, and I felt that I wasn't receiving it, so I hoped to at least be honest with you guys since you deserve to know how this makes me feel.  I believe that authors share their personal feelings with their readers throughout their writing, and I thought that being honest would only be another small piece of me that I shared with you guys, and if you look closely at this story, if you read the monologues and think about them, many of them start off not only from what Meryl is feeling, but what __I am feeling.  They're very personal, and they're very true, and that is why they're the one part of this fic that I'm really proud of.  I used to really enjoy writing this fic since it was so easy to do.  I mean, no plot, no worries, right?  But I became dissatisfied with that and developed a sort of love-hate relationship with this fic.  I loved when I could write a monologue just so, but the rest of the fic I just kept thinking that no one really cared about the best part of it, and they were all just eating up the fluff with no concern for the good stuff.  I think this was probably spawned when I received several reviews in the space of a few weeks that were __meant to be encouraging and light, but which let slip that many people were not reading the monologues.  When you put so much into something and it's overlooked in favor of some random, easy to digest fluff, it makes you feel as though everything you've feel, everything you believe, everything you hope for and desire…none of that matters to anyone but you, and no one feels the way you do.  No one wants to hear what you think.  So I posted the rant after another reviewer went on and on about how cute the story was, but could I not waste time on those monologues since they were boring.  It wasn't the first time the monologues were ignored, and it likely won't be the last, but it was enough to make me snap.  I lashed out and told you guys how I felt.  You told me how __you felt in return, and you know what?  That's all I ever wanted.  I'm glad that so many of you __do care about this fic, and for all of you, yes, even for the ones that called me immature (which kinda made me laugh, I mean, my best friend still thinks farts are the height of humor, I __know I'm immature) I will continue this story and try my best to finish it without forgetting that even though some people are skipping this introduction right now, some of you are reading it.  Some of you are believing what I say to be the truth of what I feel, and some of you are feeling a response to that, and for you guys, I can write.  Even if it is plotless fluff.  Thanks._

*****

Take My Hand

Part 13

*****

I sometimes wonder if our lives are as terribly important and all-consuming as we'd like to believe that they are.  Seriously, do you wonder how many people care about the things that affect you deeply?  How many people worry whether you're ill, if you are upset or hurt or in serious need of help?  When something wonderful happens to you, how many people will be truly happy for you?  I try not to think about these things too deeply, as it only leads to worry that perhaps those few people I hold so dear to me are in some way viewing my life as something that is of secondary importance.  How would you feel if you realized that your close friends and those you loved best cared very little for you in reality?  It would bring your world crashing down around you, most likely.

On the other side of things, there's always the chance that you're someone who would rather believe that no one will be terribly affected by the impact of your life on theirs, and in this case, you usually underestimate how important you are to others.  For many years, I believed that even though my family loved me, as was socially expected of them, they would not be terribly worried if I was suddenly terribly injured or deathly ill.  Transversely, I believed that any sort of happy occurrence in my own life would seem rather inane to them.  Having a baby, getting married, falling in love…any of it.  I found out after Vash entered my life not only that I was loved unconditionally by one man, but that my family cared for me very dearly.  I think that made me so much happier, so much more content, then I ever thought I could be.  As I look back on all of it, I know that Millie was a true friend to me, Vash was my true love, and my family was always around me, always hoping for the best.  I love them for that, and for helping me realize how important that they were to me, in return.

And without them, I don't know what I would have done.  On the run, pregnant, and nearly bursting from it, and of course, I was about to get one of those surprises that always comes around when you least expect them.  Vash seemed to attract those, or maybe that was just what love and family were all about.

----------

"And then," Vash's eyes were bright and happy as he led me from room to room of the tiny house we had decided to stay in until after my pregnancy had ended and we felt the baby was capable of any sort of travel.  He had left me in an inn nearly three days straight looking for something appropriate, and when we had finally reached the small, cozy three-room home, I had been bursting with questions.  How had he been able to afford it?  Had he made some sort of deal to procure it?  How long could we stay there?  It seemed perfect to me, even under the peeling paint and creaking floorboards.  I suppose that when you're in love, everything is more beautiful.  "I thought that we could send for your parents and your brothers to visit if they wanted.  I mean, we should be safe here for a while, don't you think?"  He was so excited, so happy, and I couldn't blame him.  This was something that meant a lot to him.  Being able to take care of me, keep me warm and provided for; those things were on his mind all the time.

"Vash…it's really great." I told him, beaming back up at him.  "Can I lie down?" I didn't mean to spoil the mood or anything, but I was having a harder time than ever moving around, which must have prompted Vash into his current plan of action.  I had to admit, it was very nice being taken care of.  I didn't really care _how _he'd afforded it.

"Oh!  Sorry." Vash looked apologetic, hurrying me over to the squeaky mattress that didn't have anything on it other than a big blanket that I was pretty sure Vash had provided as well.  "Is that better?  If you're hungry, I can make you something.  We have food." He looked very pleased to inform me that our house wasn't just an empty shell, it had been thoroughly moved into, and it could be of great use to us, as we were now a family.

"That sounds great." I grunted slightly at a sharp pain in my stomach.  I got a lot of pains like that recently, and I generally just ignored them, as they caused Vash a lot of unnecessary worry.

"Okay!" he ran out of the room, and I could hear him humming happily as he banged around the kitchen, whipping up dinner as quickly as he used to back at our apartment.  A home.  A real home, with all the problems and joys that came with owning an entire building.  I remembered from my youth that my parents had constantly been under stress from the problems of taking care of our house, but I looked forward to doing the same with Vash.  It might look a bit dingy, but as far as I was concerned, it was a private utopia on the outskirts of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.  Bounty hunters didn't go to little towns in the middle of nowhere.

"Vash…how long do you think we can stay here?" I asked him from the bed.

"Well, it shouldn't be a problem for as long as I can see.  I made a deal with this local rancher, and he set me up here.  We owe him some money, but it won't take long to pay it off." Vash called out from the kitchen.  "I know it's pretty small, but I don't think it will be a problem for some time."

"Oh…no, I love it, Vash." I clarified.  "I've just…never owned a house before."

"Let's not worry about it." He poked his head through the doorway, and I could tell from the ecstatic grin on his face, he was not worried about _anything_ at that moment.  "Just let me take care of you.  We can send a letter to Millie tomorrow."

"Yeah." I grimaced.  There was another one of those annoying pains.  I felt sort of like I had to go to the bathroom, which happened a lot those days.  Some strange pregnancy issue, apparently.  Vash hadn't seen the face I made, as he was back to his cooking, and I decided that it wouldn't be overly problematic for me to shuffle three feet to the bathroom without assistance.  Getting up, I braced my self against the wall, but as I moved, I made quite a bit of noise on the creaking floorboards.  Before I'd gotten three steps, Vash had caught me getting out of bed, and was rushing over to assist me.  This made me feel extremely foolish.  "I think I can go to the bathroom without help."

"I'm just trying to keep you from straining yourself." Vash kissed my temple, and at the same moment, I had a very strange feeling that something large and wet had just…fallen out of me.  I looked down and saw with no small amount of surprise that my water had just broken.

"Vash." I think I did a really good job of remaining calm at that point.  "Vash, you need to go get the doctor, sweetie."

"What?" he looked confused and worried, as he obviously didn't understand why I had suddenly stopped walking.  "Meryl?"

"Vash, go get the doctor." I repeated, feeling strangely peaceful.  I had expected to become over excited and worried when the time came, but I suppose that I knew it was utterly unavoidable now.  "I'm having your baby, so you need to go."

"You're…what?" the last word came out as a shrill sort of shriek, and I might have laughed at how girly Vash sounded right then, but I was really more concerned with what needed to be happening at that moment.  "Oh!  I'm going!  Are you going to be okay!  I'll be right back!  Five minutes tops!" he was running around the room, helping me back into bed, pulling the curtains open, closing them again, and generally acting like a chicken with it's head cut off.

"Vash, go." I told him calmly.  And after nodding frantically, he did.  I lied back and sighed.  It was good to be home for this, at least.

As I lie on the bed, concentrating on staying calm and breathing normally, my thoughts went out to my brothers and parents, and to Millie.  I dearly wished that they could have been with me for this occasion, but I suppose that I knew it would be just Vash and I from the moment he ran home from work that day, panting and looking frightened.  He hadn't been frightened for himself, I knew that well even as labor set in and most rational thought was driven from my mind.  Always, he was frightened for me.  He cared for me above all else, and would do anything to keep me safe and happy.  That was why he took such pride in the rickety little home he had found us, and that was why he was in more of a panic than I had ever seen him in when he returned, practically dragging the bedraggled looking town doctor after him.  The pains were closer together now, and more acute, but I still managed a short smile for my fiancé.

"Good thing…we're not too far from town, right?" I bit my lip at the onset of another series of sharp pains.  It felt as if I were being pulled apart from the inside, and it was not at all pleasant.  Mother had told me much of what childbirth would be like to prepare me, but nothing can really prepare you for a pain like that.

"Miss Stryfe?" the doctor straightened himself and came over next to me, setting down a bag on the end table that was nearby.  It looked more like four boards haphazardly nailed together, but it worked.  "How are you feeling?"

"Like…I really want this to be done." I laughed weakly at my own joke, and watched with some concern as Vash ran around the room, still panicking.  He had gone from the kitchen to the bedroom to the bathroom three times already, and it was obvious he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing.  "Vash…stop that." I told him.  He froze, eyes wide and confused as he looked at me, wringing his hands with a look on his face that said to me clearly "now what do I do?"

"Could you bring me some towels mister…um…" the doctor looked confused.  "I'm sorry, what was your last name?"

"He's just Vash." I panted slightly.  This whole childbirth thing was really not comfortable.  Go figure.  "Strange parents…see."  It was a weak excuse, but the doctor shrugged.  Apparently, he didn't care all that much _what_ Vash's name was.

"Well, could you bring me some towels, then?" the doctor seemed a lot more calm than Vash, and I was willing to bet he was even calmer than _I_ was about this whole thing.  I suppose that made sense, as he was a doctor.  Vash ran off to bring the two bath towels we owned, and the doctor smiled at me kindly.

"What's…your name?" I asked, realizing he hadn't told me before then.  He was preparing instruments, none of which looked very frightening, but a few of them did make me a little nervous.  Why would he need those scissors?

"My name is Gallagher, but around here everyone just calls me Doc." He told me.  He wasn't a very old man, and I wondered how long he had been doctor to this small town.

"Did you…grow up here?" I asked.  That would make sense, after all.  I didn't think many people would purposefully live in the middle of nowhere unless they were running from something.  Like Vash and I were.

"I was born here, but I went to school in a bigger city to study medicine.  I always promised I'd come back here, though.  I know it's not the most exciting town, but it is my home, and I love helping the people here." He told me.  "Now then, Miss Stryfe, I'm going to measure your dilation so I have some idea of how close we are.  I want you to just relax, all right?  You're doing great so far."

"Uh huh."  I became suddenly aware once more of the way that my body was trying to rip itself apart, which was likely the most unbearable thing I'd ever felt.  That was when I became worried, as I realized that my mother had said the pain didn't _really start until the baby was coming out.  If I hurt this badly now, how could I bear the actual main process?  It seemed impossible.  Just then, Vash came back, looking worried and frightened still, the towels clutched in his shaking hands._

"Are you okay?" he asked me, handing the towels over to the doctor.  "Is she okay?" He hadn't waited for a response before apparently deciding that I was in no state to answer the question accurately.

"She's just fine, and she's coming along nicely." Doc looked up from where he had positioned himself between my legs.  I was so concerned with the pain and my rising fear that I hadn't noticed him moving around down there.  The idea of someone sticking strange instruments in that area might have upset me, but I was far too preoccupied with the pains that kept wracking my body to really care what Doc was doing.  "It's a good thing you came and got me right away, though.  This baby doesn't seem to want to waste much time."

"What's that mean?" Vash was obviously torn between coming to stand next to me or checking to see what exactly Doc was doing.

"It means that this baby should be ready very soon.  Do you have any large tubs or pans you can fill with hot water for me?" Doc asked Vash, and he looked around as though a tub would pop out of the walls.

"Um…I have a bowl." Vash indicated with his arms how large it was, and Doc nodded.

"That'd be perfect.  Why don't you go get that?" Even through the pain, I was impressed with how calm and collected Doc stayed.

"Doc…how many times…have you…" I was having a hard time talking, as I was feeling less than alright, and I thought that maybe I was overheating.  He should have asked Vash for _cold_ water.

"Delivered?  Well, I practiced a bit before I came out here, and then I am the only doctor for quite a few miles, so I'd say that I've delivered somewhere around thirty, forty babies.  A lot of them were assists, but I'm pretty used to it, so don't worry, Miss Stryfe." He assured me.

"You…can call me…Meryl." I told him, biting down on my lip again.  He'd said the baby was coming soon, but I was starting to think it was only going to torture me for hours on end.

"Alright, Meryl." He beamed at me, obviously pleased at my friendliness.  Vash returned, giving the bowl of water over to Doc, who directed him where to set it and then went back to whatever it was he was doing to me.  I didn't really feel much, especially since all I seemed able to concentrate on was the pain.  "Vash, why don't you go stand with Meryl so she can hold your hand.  She's probably hurting right now."

Probably?  I don't think it was a question of whether I was hurting or not, but maybe the doctor was just trying to keep Vash relatively calm.  Anyway, it worked, and I clutched onto Vash's hand tightly, not really caring if I was hurting him or not.  After all, wasn't it _his_ fault that I was going through all of this?  He might as well feel some of it too, I figured.  Things stayed calm for some time after that, with the doctor letting us get used to the idea of what was about to happen.  Vash was speechless, and he was deathly pale.  I wondered vaguely if he might faint.  I hoped he'd hit his head if he did go down.  And that's when I felt a series of pains so intense that I had to cry out, tears coming to my eyes as I squeezed Vash's hand tightly.  What was going on down there?

"Meryl, it looks like you're ready to start pushing, okay?" Doc seemed so calm, and I kind of wanted to smack him.  Push?  Was he kidding?  Did he even _know how much pain I was in?  "Ready?"  I nodded frantically and squeezed my eyes shut.  Maybe if I didn't see that calm look on his face, I wouldn't want to hurt him so much.  "Push."_

I really felt it then.  A pain like nothing I'd ever felt before.  I had thought the labor was bad, but this…it was indescribable.  It briefly crossed my mind that I was too small to be having babies, and maybe it would be too much for my body.  Maybe I'd die.  But the doctor…he seemed so calm.  That made me feel less scared, but it didn't help the pain.

"Good, now do it again." Doc ordered me.  I wanted to tell him no, that I couldn't do it again, that the stupid baby could just stay inside of me for all I cared, but I pushed instead.  It hurt so much that I let out a strangled sort of grunting cry, my hand tightening on Vash's so much that I heard something pop.  I hoped I had hurt him, at least a little.

This went on for quite some time.  The doctor telling me to push, me complying even though it felt as though I was going to die if I did it again, Vash whimpering as I squeezed his hand, and the cycle repeating once more.  I started to feel despair inside of me.  Was the baby ever going to finish coming out, or was it all just some cruel game?  I couldn't decide whom I hated more, the baby, the doctor, or Vash.  And then, just when I thought I couldn't take it any more, when I was convinced that my slim hips were just too narrow, and no baby would ever make it's way out of me, I heard something that almost made me cry in relief.  A baby, squalling loudly and demanding the attention of everyone in the room.  My head fell back and I realized then that I had been crying already, tears and sweat streaking my cheeks as the doctor held up the baby.  I started laughing then, laughing so hard that more tears made their way down my wet face.  Vash's jaw was slack, his eyes twinkling, even though I was still clutching his hand tightly.  I still hurt so bad that I felt I might die, but it was over at last.

"Wait a moment…we're not done." I really really wanted to kick Doc in the head right then, but I don't think I could have summoned the strength.  Plus, I really didn't want him to drop the baby.  "Vash, come here and hold her."  It occurred to me that the baby was a girl, but before I could really concentrate on that, Doc told me to do something that made me want to cry again.  "Okay, Meryl, it should be easier now.  Give me a nice, big push."

Who did he think he was kidding?  Easier?  If it got any harder, I was pretty sure I would pass out.  Why would he ask me to push, anyway?  Vash was holding the baby, so that was all taken care of.  Was he trying to torture me?  Still, I did as he said, screaming at the pain and then biting on my lip until I tasted blood.  This really was never going to end.  I was going to die on this bed.  I pushed three more times on his command, and then something remarkable happened.  I heard a second voice, a baby crying out as Doc lifted it and moved to clean it.  It took quite some time for my mind to process this, but by the time Doc had cut the cords and bundled up both babies, it hit me.  Twins.  No wonder I had been so big.  It was twins the whole time.  I hadn't expected that.

"There's two, Meryl!" Vash was ecstatic, still holding the little girl as he came back to me.  Doc was wetting down a cloth, which he used to wipe my face.  It felt very good to be a bit cleaner, but I really just wanted to see my babies.  "Can you believe it?"  All I could do was smile as he lowered the girl for me to see.  Rem.  That was right, we were going to name the baby Rem if it was a girl.

"And here's your son." The doctor helped me sit up a bit so that I could take the other baby from him.  I felt like my face would split apart from smiling too much.  I realized that I was laughing weakly, too tired for a full-fledged burst of noise, but laughing all the same.

"Two." That was all I said as I looked down into my son's face.  His eyes were closed, and the small bit of hair he had was dark from the water that clung to it after being cleaned.

"Only the second time I've delivered twins, to tell you the truth.  You both did wonderfully." Doc sounded as though we had been performing or something, but it still made me smile.

"Thanks." I told him.  I seemed to be having problems getting out more than one word at a time.

"Really, thank you so much." Vash looked like he was about to cry, but I couldn't blame him.  I was happy enough to start crying again myself.

"No problem, folks.  We can talk about money later, but right now, why don't you just enjoy yourselves.  I'll see you around." And with a warm smile, Doc left us.

"Two babies, Meryl." Vash repeated.  "There's two of them."

"I know." I could tell I was crying again, but I didn't care.  "Rem and Nicholas.  Our babies."

*****

The End (Of Part 13, That Is)


	14. Twins

God, I want this story to end…why won't it just end!

*****

Take My Hand

Part 14

*****

Have you ever noticed that the only things that are really difficult in the course of living are the things that are the most rewarding, the things that end up making your life seem worthwhile?  It may not be easy to go to school, get the best grades so that you can get into a good college, and then continue on so that you can have the job you've always wanted, but if it was easy, would it really be worth it?  Our dreams aren't dreams because they're easily accomplished, it's because we want them so badly that we're willing to put in all the seemingly endless amounts of work to reach those goals.  People don't just wake up one day and decide on a whim that they want to be a doctor, or a wife, or a mother.  It's something that takes a lot of work and planning.  And then, after you've accomplished your goals, you realize that your work has only just begun.  If life just took care of itself without any work from you, you wouldn't really be living, would you?  You'd just be playing a role, some secondary character in a farce that could go on just as well without you in it.

Before Vash, I'd had dreams and aspirations, but most of the time, I didn't really think that I'd accomplished much in my life.  I had a pretty good job that I enjoyed, very few friends, and I wasn't particularly involved in my family's home life.  But then…Vash changed everything.  He gave me _new_ goals without even meaning to.  I think that when I looked into his eyes, I saw myself reflected there, but it was a version of me that I hadn't become quite yet.  It was the way I wanted to be when I realized that with Vash, no dream is too big for me.  We could do it together.

And then the twins came, and I thought that everything had just fallen into place so easily.  Well, granted, it took some work finding a venue to actually marry Vash and I that wouldn't be at all suspicious of his identity.  And then of course, we were still on the run.  But living in that little house out in the middle of nowhere, I didn't _feel like I was running from anything.  I felt like I'd finally found my place.  Soon enough, everything settled back into a new schedule, one centered around the twins.  They were two precious bundles of joy, true enough, but they seemed to also be the neediest little things in the universe.  It helped a lot when, a month after they were born, Millie came out to stay with us, bringing along Aaron and my mother.  Dad's heart was bad, and he couldn't really make the trip, and Gavin was still mad at not being told the truth about Vash immediately.  And so, soon enough, we were a quite organized little household, all of us living every moment in the service of my babies, Rem and Nicholas._

----------

"You're doing wonderfully, and the babies are coming along just fine." Doc told me after setting down his stethoscope to talk to me after one of the seemingly endless post natal exams he came over for.  "And may I say, this house is coming along just fine.  You should all be very proud."

"Yes, well, I haven't been doing much work there.  I've been so busy with those two." I indicated the two babies scooting around on the newly carpeted floor.  "Everyone else has been really working at it, though.  Even Vash has, with his job and everything."  I'd found out soon after the babies were born that Vash had promised to work for the rancher that he'd work for the man, which worked out well for both of them since it gave money for Vash to support us and pay off the house as well as giving the rancher another good hand when it was so hard to find new employees.

"Well, it seems like you've got this household running like a fine-tuned machine." Doc smiled at me cheerfully.  "It's been a pleasure, as always."  He got up to leave, but of course, my mother raced in to stop him.

"Oh!  Doc, wouldn't you stay for lunch?  It'll be ready in a few minutes if I can just get Millie and Aaron to come in off the roof.  They've been up there patching shingles all morning, and it's about time for them to take a break." My mother's eyes were wide and hopeful, as though she didn't already know that the doctor would agree to stay as he did every time he came to check up on the babies and me.

"Alright then, that sounds lovely." He smiled warmly at my mother before bending down to scoop up Nicholas, patting the dark hair that emphasized the brightness of his aqua eyes.  "I think I'll help Meryl feed the babies while I'm at it.  Do you have a warm bottle or two, Mrs. Stryfe?"

"Oh!  Yes, just a moment!" she raced back into the kitchen as I bent over to pick up my daughter, who had purple-grey eyes and downy blonde hair.  Both babies were obviously happy at the attention they were receiving, chortling and cooing as we brought them into the little dining area on one side of the kitchen.  Only moments after my mother had handed us both bottles, the noises of feet could be heard on the roof, and just after that, Millie came in laughing at something Aaron had just said.

"Lunch ready mom?" Aaron asked, excited to be eating anything that our mother prepared.

"Nearly.  Why don't Millie and you move those chairs so everyone can sit down?" she asked, still putting together some sandwiches and stirring at the soup she had made.

"Hey Doc!  Nice to see you're eating with us again." Millie greeted the man with a happy wave, and he nodded slightly at her while bottle feeding Nicholas.

"Honey!  I'm home!" Just then, Vash came tramping in, looking dusty and a little tired, but no more than was usual when he came home for lunch.  It was hard work at the ranch, but he enjoyed it and since it was so close, he almost always ate all his meals with us, which was great.

"Hey Vash!" Millie almost dropped a chair as she waved exuberantly while Aaron offered my husband a slight nod.  Apparently, now that we were married, he didn't really disapprove of Vash anymore, though he was a bit wary on the outlaw topic.  Oh well, at least he wasn't being a baby about it.

"How's everyone?" he asked, coming over to me for a kiss as he looked over the babies.

"Still in perfect health, Vash." Doc assured him, shifting Nicholas slightly from one arm to the other.  The little baby boy was getting a little restless, which was almost certainly due to the fact that his father was in the room and wasn't holding him.  "You want to take him?" Doc offered, knowing well enough that Nicholas would start crying soon if he didn't get to be held by his father.

"Yeah, come here Nick, let's have some lunch." Vash's eyes lit up as he took his son in his arms, finishing the job that Doc had started with no small amount of enthusiasm.  As he fed Nicholas, singing some adorable song under his breath, my mother brought lunch to the table and ushered us into our seats.  We all sat down and I realized with a warm, happy feeling in my chest that _this was where I belonged, surrounded by friends and family, all of us enjoying each other's company.  This was my home, and I never wanted to leave._

----------

"Mmm…Vash, wake up." I muttered, shaking the man beside me as squalling filled my ears and woke me.  It seems sometimes like babies have radar.  They start crying right when you're about to fall asleep.  I think that this happened every night since they were born.  Sometimes it was just one of them, but more often than not, it was both.  "It's your turn.  Wake up."

"Huh…uh, yeah." Vash stumbled out of bed, nearly pulling the covers off as he tripped on them in his scramble.  I sighed, trying to get a bit of peace before the babies woke up again and I was the one standing around, rocking them and singing to them.  I loved the babies more than most anything in the world, but sometimes I wondered if they would _ever_ spend an entire night sleeping.  I was just starting to drift off when the weight on the bed shifted, and a very tired Vash climbed back in next to me, moving close and wrapping his arms around me.  "Love you."

"Love you too." I replied, making a soft noise of contentment as he kissed the back of my neck several times.  I could tell that he was feeling less than tired, but I didn't really want to waste what little sleep I could get.  However, ever since the babies were born, we really hadn't had time to do much of anything together, so I didn't feel right just brushing him off.  Turning toward him, I kissed his lips slowly, thinking that maybe he'd think that was good enough.  After all, he must have been tired as well.  But the kiss only encouraged him, his hands kneading into my back as he deepened the contact, his whole body pressing against mine as though I hadn't touched him in longer than either of us could remember and he didn't want it to end anytime soon.  I could feel that he was ready, and with a burst of shock, I realized that I wanted him more than I wanted sleep.  I was tired, I was worn out, but we hadn't made love in so long, I couldn't say no to those hands on my back, his lips moving down my throat, his hips grinding against mine.  It was all too much, and I let out a long, trembling moan.

"Sshh, Mer, we don't want to wake up the babies." He whispered, breath hot in my ear, and I nodded frantically.  There was no way I wanted this to be interrupted now that we'd finally gotten around to it again.  And then, my mother and Millie were across the hall, with Aaron out on the couch in the main room.  I didn't want to wake them up, but I'd never really done anything with Vash with anyone else in the same house as us, so it was hard to keep quiet.  I figured that the best plan was to do everything as fast as possible so that we had less chance of being interrupted by another outburst from the babies, so I reached down and immediately began working at the waistband of the loose pants Vash wore to bed, pulling him on top of me and wrapping my legs around him.  I finally got the pants down and I ground up against him, causing Vash to bite his lip as he muffled a loud moan.  Leaning down, he kissed his way to my ear.  "I love you so much." His breath was coming in short, urgent gasps as he pulled at my nightgown, tossing it aside before attacking my lips again, swallowing the noises that I made as he reached down, moving his hand to ready me before finally pushing himself inside.

It had been so long, I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it was to have him inside of me, pressing, pulling, making me feel as though my universe centered around the feeling of him against me.  My fingers moved over his arms, pausing on each scar and then up and over his chest, taking in every blemish as something utterly familiar, some further proof that this was Vash, and I loved him, and this was what he felt like against me, inside me, around me.  He broke the lengthened kiss as breathing became difficult, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out as we moved, coming closer and closer to the completion both of us craved.

And then the air was rent with the sound of a squalling child.  Vash and I froze for a moment, looking around as if we thought that maybe the child would simply go back to sleep, but only moments later, a second voice joined the first and he collapsed on my chest with a heavy sigh before dissolving into laughter.  He moved off of me, and I felt an emptiness I had no time to dwell on.  After all, my babies needed me.

I guess that's what it is to be a mother.  Your children always come first, no matter what.

----------

"Come on!  Come here Rem!" Aaron was on the ground, trying in vain to tempt my daughter away from the table she was using to hold herself upright.  He was convinced that the babies were ready to walk, and though they were just about old enough, I didn't think they would start any faster with him sitting on the ground trying to bribe them with baby biscuits and other such things.  Vash had actually come the closest to getting one of the babies to walk, since all he had to do was stand still for a good five seconds, and that was enough to have Nicholas scrambling toward him as fast as he could move.  Of course, he stuck to crawling for the time being, but the babies were almost a year old, and it was sure that they would start walking soon enough.

"You'll never get her to come like that." Gavin entered the room then.  After staying with us for almost two months, Millie had taken my mom and brother home, but they oftentimes visited us.  Gavin was long since over his grudge against Vash, and he had started visiting with Aaron about five months ago.  They were currently both on the floor, playing with Rem and Nicholas while I sat on the couch, sipping tea and waiting for Vash to finish making dinner so we could all eat.

"Oh, then I'd like to see you get her to walk!" Aaron was highly insulted at Gavin questioning his knowledge of babies.

"You two, she'll walk when she's ready." I reminded them for about the hundredth time.  I sometimes thought that they were amazingly immature for men their age, but sometimes Vash could be just as bad and he was at least three times their age.  "Gavin, please don't give those candies to Nicholas.  He'll choke on them." I told my brother as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a taffy.

"No way!  He loves them." Gavin affirmed, but he did put the candy back in his pocket with a sullen frown.  Aaron had finally given up on Rem walking and was moving over to where Nicholas was building a tower out of blocks, intent on helping his nephew out.  I smiled as I watched Gavin grab up Rem's favorite doll and use it as bait to try and make her walk now that Aaron had given up.

"Hey honey." Vash came in the living room, which caused Nicholas to stand up on shaky feet, knocking his tower over despite Aaron's attempts to save it.  "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes." He kissed my cheek and sat next to me on the couch.  "I've just got to wait for the biscuits to be done." Wrapping an arm around my shoulders he smiled at his son who was still standing, big aqua eyes wide as he watched his favorite person in the world sitting next to me.

"Da!" he cried out the only discernible syllable that we'd been able to coax out of him yet.  "Da!"

"Hey, Nick." Vash spoke to his son. "What are you up to over there with Uncle Aaron?"

"Da!" Nicholas cried out again, pointing as he stumbled forward and almost fell, but managed to push himself back up on his feet.  "Da!" And then something amazing happened.  Gavin dropped the doll he'd been holding as Nicholas slowly but surely walked over to Vash before wrapping his arms around his leg and crying out again.  "Da!"

"Oh my god!  He did it!" Aaron was obviously very excited, as he'd been trying to get the babies to walk for almost a month now.  "Gavin, did you see that?  He walked!"

"I know!  Way to go, Nick!" Gavin's eyes were bright with excitement as well.  "Oh man, mom's gonna be so jealous when we tell her!"  Vash had swept his son up into his arms and was plastering his face with happy kisses as the baby chortled, not sure what had caused so much commotion, but pleased to be receiving so much loving attention from his father.

"Did you see, Meryl?  Did you see him walking?" Vash looked as though he might start crying, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he did.  After the first time Nicholas had called him "da" Vash had burst into tears and hugged the baby, refusing to put him down for nearly two hours.

"Such a good boy." I leaned over, planting a few of my own kisses on Nicholas's face, much to his exuberance.  Whenever Vash was in the room, he'd only stay put if he was in my arms, which made me feel special, but of course, I was his mother.

"Man…I want kids." Aaron sighed, leaning back and reaching to scoop up Rem so that she wouldn't feel left out.  "Wanna come home with me, Remy?"

"Don't take her!  She's the cute one!" Gavin made as if to pull Rem away, instead tickling the baby's sides.  "Nick looks way too much like Merry."

"You two…" I rolled my eyes.  At least they didn't insult Vash anymore.  Well, not seriously.

"Oh!  I better get the biscuits!" Vash ran off, still carrying Nick, bouncing the child who was now howling with delighted laughter.  "Dinner's ready everyone!  Come and get it!"  I smiled, setting down my tea and taking my daughter from Gavin and Aaron before continuing on to the kitchen where dinner was set out, with Vash still at the stove, filling a bowl with biscuits to put with the rest of the offerings.

"Vash?" I came behind him, both of us still holding babies.  "I love you."

"I love you, Meryl." He assured me, his eyes soft and swirling as he turned to bend down and drop a kiss on my cheek.  Complicated though it might be, I didn't believe that any sort of life could be as happy and good as mine.

*****

The End (Of Part 14, That Is)


	15. End

Yes, I swear, I can write an update.  Sorry about the long wait everyone, but living conditions over here have been unstable at best for the past month or so, and it's not easy to write and access files when you don't even know where you're sleeping.  Send all donations to the "Teresa Wants To Be Independent But Likely Won't Be Until After College Fund."  Money is appreciated, but all major credit cards are accepted gracefully and graciously.  Please include a photocopy of one form of photo ID with all personal checks…okay, let's just do this thing.

*****

Take My Hand

Part 15

*****

What is it that defines you?  That might seem like a deceptively simple question, but the fact of the matter is that everyone defines themselves on a different grouping of ideas.  I've learned over the years that those I am closest to define me in different ways, but in the end, they come out with the same person.  I know that to Vash, I am his happiness, as he is mine.  He told me once that when he thinks of me, of what makes me up, he sees all the little things I do that perhaps even I don't notice.

To Vash, I'm a lazy stumble out of bed in the middle of the night to get water for one of the kids.  I'm the soft crooning in the back of my throat that I make as I'm settling down to sleep next to him.  I'm sitting up with Rem and Nick each night when they were young, reading them stories and then eventually, letting them read to me before everyone went to sleep.  I'm that slight tilt of the head and the small smile that indicates I've just gotten some idea which I will share with him as soon as I've thought out how to explain it.  I'm lemonade on hot afternoons when Vash and the kids play exuberantly in the front lawn.  I'm the way that every time we kiss, I seem utterly amazed, as though I never knew I could feel this way.  I'm the look of contented bliss as he lazily kisses my shoulder after we've made love.  He told me that I am what makes the day go and then come again after the night.  I told him that I love him.

I see myself as a player in the great production of life.  Life is a series of images to me.  Those images evoke feelings which, in turn, inspire words.  The very words that you are reading right now.  Through my rambling discourse, with it's many starts and stops, I hope I gave you some idea of what love is to me.  Love is Vash.  Love is every second I spend with him, or even away from him, thinking of him.  But then, love is also Rem and Nick.  They were, of course, the only children I ever had.  I suppose I wasn't surprised when the years passed, they grew, and yet never again did I become pregnant.  It's somewhat hard to remember that I am a normal, aging woman when the man beside me is eternallly young.  Love is my mother and father, always watching out for me until the day they died.  I remember mother passing only a week after father, and thinking that it was terribly sad, and at the same time, understanding why she felt her life was done.  I wouldn't have wanted to go on for long without Vash.  Love is also my brothers, sweet boys that they are, deep in their hearts.  They spoiled and cared for Rem and Nick long after my parents were gone, and I know that my children were deeply saddened when Aaron passed on ten years ago.  I was.  Gavin is still around, older than I am, and yet somehow surviving as though he's still in his twenties.  Of course, this isn't meant as literally as it is with Rem and Nick, who like their father, seem incapable of aging after a certain point.  And at the same time, love is Millie, my very best friend and the one I miss probably more than any other as I lay in my bed, drawing deep breaths and taking in the sad faces around me.  She died in a claims accident when Rem and Nick were only ten, much to Aaron's heartbreak.  He fell in love with her, as I became aware of long before I realized that though she was still cheerful and full of life, Millie could never put Nicholas D. Wolfwood behind her.  Perhaps, if she hadn't died…but then, that's how life is.  What happens always happens without any real care for the happiness of those living through it, and as an old woman, I have long since learned not to try and stop the flow of life.

However, as I see the faces of my children, still looking as though they aren't a day over twenty-five, and my husband who is still as ageless as the day I met him, I know that if I could change anything, for them I would go on living.  It cannot be helped, though.  I am simply too old.  I have lived to see the legendary name of Vash the Stampede fade into nothing more than that, a legend.  Long ago, we stopped worrying that we might once more have to pick up and leave at the discord caused by some bounty hunter out to make a name and a fortune for themselves.  Long ago, Vash became simply the name of a legendary outlaw who must have, of course, by this time, have passed on, faded out, and moved on.  In a way, Vash was like that, although I knew that it would be many years still before the brilliant energy that kept him eternally young faded enough for him to move on to the next world where I was about to go.  I would wait forever, though.  And at least I knew I would have friends like Wolfwood and Millie, my parents, and at least one of my brothers, to keep me company on the other side as I did wait.

----------

"Vash…I'm sorry." I smile weakly up at him.  It's so difficult to do anything now, and I'm grateful that he already has my hand in his own, as I likely couldn't have moved it of my own volition.  "I wanted to live with you forever."

"Meryl," he's been sobbing almost non-stop since the doctor told him there was really nothing more that could be done for me.  I am old, and it's just time for me to die I suppose.

"Don't be sad, Vash." I can see behind him Rem and Nick, all grown up, and crying just as freely as their father to watch their old, decrepit, human mother finally bow to the heavy winds of mortality.  "Don't be.  There's nothing to be sad about."

"You're…you're…" he can't bring himself to say it, and I'm not surprised.

"I'm dying, yes." I tell him, aware of the waver age has added to my once solid voice.  "But I'm happy.  Because I'm surrounded by love.  I love you Vash.  And Nick and Rem, and Gavin." I am able to tilt my head slightly to see the ancient looking man sitting in a seat on the other side of my bed.  He is smiling at me, but tears are in his eyes.  I know that he won't cry until I've gone.  Gavin always hated crying in front of me.

"Say hi to everyone for me, okay Merry?" Gavin's voice somehow has a slight lilt of teasing in it, and Nick manages a slight laugh through sniffling sobs.  "And tell Aaron he still owes me twenty bucks."

"I'll do that." I assure him, aware of how it seems so difficult just breathing.  I gave my life to the people I loved, and now I want to stay a little longer, to give them more, but I can't fight against the flow of life.  I must learn once again to let things happen as they will.  My eyes start to cloud, and I see a series of images that I recognize at once as my life.  It's a happy thing to see right before my vision fades to black.

-----

"Mom!  Aaron took my best doll!" I cry out to my mother who is looking down at her children with a look of eternal patience on her serene face.

_"I did not!  Gavin took it and blamed me!" my brother argues_

_-----_

_"It's nice to meet you!  My name is Millie Thompson, and I'm sure we'll be great friends."  Millie holds out her hand, dark eyes swirling happily at the thought of a new friend._

_"Welcome to Bernadelli Insurance, Millie, I'm sure we'll ge along just fine." I reply._

_-----_

_"Yes, it's so heavy because it's just so full of mercy." Wolfwood winks at us while patting the huge cross on his back._

_"Wow!  Can I feel it?" Millie rushes toward him as I laugh at her excitement._

_-----_

_"He told us to wait here…but do you think…maybe he's not coming?" I ask Millie, not wanting to add to the flow of tears already staining her kindly face._

_"I still…I still have to wait for him.  I promised him I'd wait." I see heartbreak in her eyes, and I know that she knows as well as I do that Wolfwood isn't coming back._

_-----_

_"Thanks." Vash offers me a smile that was somehow more true than any other smile I'd seen on his usually happy face.  "Thanks for everything.  I hope to see you again, once this is all over."_

_"I'll wait for you." I tell him, biting my lip nervously as I look at the red coat that to me, has come to mean the danger that Vash always places himself in.  And he'll do it once more for his brother.  I know I can't stop that._

_-----_

_"I'd feel a lot better knowing you were here than out there." I assure the grungy, broken looking man that I had once known as Vash the Stampede._

_"Um…well if you really want, I guess I wouldn't mind spending the night…" Vash allows, looking embarrassed to be accepting my help._

_-----_

_"I wasn't really gonna make you." Vash laughs at me, mirth in his eyes as we lie together on my couch._

_"Make me what?" I ask, utterly confused, heart pounding like a hammer against my chest._

_"Say it twice." He tells me before leaning in to give me the first kiss that meant anything to me.  I love him so much._

_-----_

_"Two babies, Meryl.  There's two of them." Vash looks as amazed and happy as I feel._

_"I know.  Rem and Nicholas, our babies." I cradle the child in my arms, letting tears spill freely down my face._

_-----_

_"Do you love Rem best?" Nicholas asks as I hold his toddler sister on my hip and look down at him._

_"No, Nick." I assure him, bending down so I can pick him up with some difficulty as well.  "You're my babies and I love you both the same."_

_"I love you, mommy!" Rem answers happily._

_-----_

_"Why is Uncle Aaron crying, mama?" Rem asks me, her big eyes so much like mine full of questions._

_"Cause, Rem, sweetie." I try to stem the flow of tears threatening in my own eyes.  "Cause baby, Auntie Millie had an accident."_

_"Is she okay?" her eyes are so innocent, I want to say yes, but I know I can't._

_"No, baby, she's dead." and with that I start to cry as well._

_-----_

_"Mom, I have a question." Nicholas and Rem were darting glances at each other, and I know that what they have to say must be hard for them.  "Why don't we get old like you?  Why is dad still so young?"_

_"Because, honey." I reach up to pat my grown son's shoulder and then reach with my other hand to stroke my daughter's cheek.  "Because you're special."_

_"I don't want to be special." Rem asserts.  "Not if it means I have to watch everyone die."_

_"Neither does your father." I tell her, and that settles the matter._

_-----_

_"I'm getting married, mom!" Rem's eyes are nearly popping with excited glee.  "Dean finally asked me, and I said yes!"_

_"What's the point?" my son, who watched his young wife die bearing their dead child, has been moping for nearly three years now.  "You just have to watch him die."_

_"Because, you should be happy while you can." Vash speaks up from across the room, and Nick nods silently after a moment._

_-----_

_"When I die, what will you do?" I ask Vash, all too aware of my aged, wrinkling hand against his still young and taut cheek._

_"What I've always done." Vash kisses me softly.  "Love you the best I can."_

_-----_

"Goodbye, love." I breathe heavily once more, aware vaguely of the keening cry of my husband as my life finally leaves the body that it has housed in for so long.  I'm moving on, now, but I know that on the other side, I'll wait for him.  We were meant to be together, and not even death can separate us.

*****

The End


End file.
